


Ad Astra

by anexistence



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hogwarts, Marauders, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anexistence/pseuds/anexistence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1971 there were approximately nine hundred students boarding the Hogwarts Express. There is a kind of magic that sparks when kindred spirits meet, much unlike the one taught in wizardry schools all across the globe. It ignites, and it spreads, like a butterfly effect, enveloping all that were near when it happened, for better or for worse. It is that sort of magic that flourishes, much like any other day, on September 1st 1971. </p><p>Friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zero, aka 1971

**{Zero}**

* * *

 

In 1971 there were approximately nine hundred students boarding the Hogwarts Express. Twenty years later, in 1991, the station would feel empty.

Young people die when war happens.

In 1971, a dark haired boy stood facing his parents, grinning widely. His mother desperately tried to tidy his hair, which seemed to have a life of its own. The boy showed some resistance, but was unable to escape the caring hands of Euphemia Potter. Next to her stood a tall man, his lean figure towering over that of his small wife. Fleamont Potter's hair resembled his son's with one particular difference, his seemed to behave.

Smoothed back on top of his head, the older Potter's dark hair had but a strand sticking out. "He'd better get going," he spoke in a voice surprisingly gentle for his appearance, "wouldn't want him missing the train."

Mrs Potter finally gave up on her son's unruly hair, staring down at him with a soft smile and perhaps a tear or two in her eyes, "Oh, he's all grown up."

"Mother, please." James spoke up for the first time since they had passed through the barrier and onto the platform.

"Oh, let me be sentimental a bit more, James. You'll be gone for months."

Her husband chuckled, "He'll be back too soon, dear. Besides, you've been talking about hosting dinner parties since July. We finally don't have to worry about James here running amok after having too much of the pumpkin juice."

The boy laughed. "See, mum, it's for the best that I leave." The train whistle sounded for the first time, both of his parents looking up. "And that would be my cue. Mother, father," he nodded his head towards them, "it's been a pleasure."

His mother swatted away the arm he had outstretched for them to shake it, "James, don't be foolish, come here." And with that she held him close to her petite frame. "Oh, I'm going to miss you," a kiss on both cheeks, "now, off you go."

Fleamont carried his son's trunk to the nearest entrance, pushing it onto the wagon as James walked a few steps behind him battling with a bird cage in which a large barred owl named Arthur resided. "There we are, James. Now, what were the rules?" The tall man had to lean down significantly despite the fact that his son was now standing on the first step, entering the train.

"No sneaking out of the castle," his father nodded, "no telling anyone about…" His father once again nodded. "And write home at least every two weeks?" James grinned widely.

Fleamont's blue eyes narrowed, meeting James' wide brown ones, "And don't cause too much trouble, James." He said pointedly before straightening up. "I think you're all set. Don't forget, if you are not in Gryffindor I  _will_  disown you."

"Mum was a Hufflepuff."

His father winked, ruffling his hair up. "Exactly."

James' laughter filled the air as he pushed his trunk one step higher, pulling the bird cage behind him, and Fleamont Potter returned to his wife.

"Need any help?" A boy stood on James' left slightly shorter than him, with his hair slicked back. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He had already put on his robes, and a shiny green pin stood at the front of his chest. James knew, quite positively, that he had to belong to one of the Pure-Blood families that prided themselves on their Slytherin lineage, yet he seemed to lack the pompous air around him.

"Eh, sure. This owl is bloody heavy."

The boy in front of him smirked, "Mine's half the size and I couldn't carry it, mate. Well, I didn't want to. Point being, I get it. I'll grab your trunk." He said, already walking away with most of James' belongings, sans the owl and the clothes he had on. "You can sit in my compartment, no one's joined me yet. I think I look too formal for them."

James chuckled, "Well, you do look like you belong in that prep school in Wales, if we're being honest." They entered the compartment, the shorter of the two boys immediately jumping onto his side and laying down.

"The Draich Academy, ugh. It's not my fault, mother insisted on this." He played with the pin on his chest. "You are of noble house Black," his voice rose as he mimicked what James assumed was his mother, "you must look presentable. Ah, son, you are our firstborn," he spoke, now lowering his voice, "you must present your family in the best manner possible. Now take care of that hair… That's my family for you."

"Black?"

The boy jumped up, sitting right across from James his hand outstretched, "Ah, almost forgot. Black, Sirius Black. As in, _serious_  Black. It's funny, I'm not really serious about anything at all. I think that's why father worries so much. Thinks I'm going to embarrass the family name."

James stared, unable to get a word in, "Yes,  _seriously_  how could you ever do that?"

Sirius stared back at him in silence, "Did you just… make fun of my name?"

"I saw the chance, figured I had to take it." James shrugged, while the boy on the other side of the compartment fell back into a lying position.

"Fair enough. Who are you then anyway?"

"James Potter."

"Of the Sleakeazy's Hair Potion?" Sirius laughed. "I have a gallon of it on my head, I reckon. Can't wait to wash it out."

"True, my father is the inventor of it."

Sirius stared at him from across the compartment, frowning for a split second, "Doesn't do you much good, does it?"

Shrugging, James tried to fix his hair but to no avail, "I sort of gave up on trying really. The Black family, my dad spoke about your family. Rarely, but—"

"Politics, am I right?" Sirius cut him off and waited till James nodded awkwardly. "I know. Family's quite invested really, I'm not an idiot, we aren't on the popular side. But we always have guests over, so I figure it is a simple matter of perspective, really. Most of them are rather prominent, well respected families. Malfoys, Lestranges, the Goyle family, a lot of them really. Distant relatives, if I think about it…" He trailed off. "Oi, what Quidditch team are you rooting for?"

"Oh, Chudley Cannons. Dad's a fan, I grew up a fan. You?" A hint of pride could easily be detected in James' voice.

"Not sure, I like the Cannons. Not that much into Quidditch. Don't know why I asked." He grinned. "I wonder when the trolley will be here, I'm starved."

James thought about his breakfast and just how full his stomach felt. Then his thoughts were preoccupied with the idea of eating as many Chocolate Frogs as he could, and perhaps even trading some cards with Sirius. "I'm hungry, too."

 

* * *

 

"Dad, are we going to be late?" A girl asked from the back seat of the car.

"No, darling, this is just a bit of traffic, no need to worry."

"Why didn't mum and Tuney come to see me off?"

The man in the driver's seat gripped the steering wheel only slightly tighter and sighed, "Tuney wasn't feeling well, Lily. Mum stayed behind to take care of her. But I am here to make sure you get onto that weird platform, what was it again?"

The girl twisted in her seat, reaching for the paper on the opposite side of the car, "Platform 9 and ¾."

"I still don't believe that exists, but if it says so."

Lily knew it had to exist. It was the only logical explanation, however illogical it may have seemed to her father. Besides, Severus had told her about Hogwarts and he wouldn't lie to her, they were friends. The ride went on in tense silence after that as her father slowly lost his temper, cursing at the drivers in front of him under his breath. They had come to the King's Cross with only half an hour to spare, and to her surprise Lily remained calm while her father searched frantically for the Platform 9 and ¾ , which was nowhere to be found. He had even approached a few people asking them for directions only to receive a look of utter confusion and wonder each time. Lily followed her father around, both hands holding onto a cat carrier in which her very own kitten, which she named Daisy for the sake of irony, should have been sleeping, but what with all the fussing and running about the King's Cross there wasn't any doubt that the kitten was for the time being wide awake.

"Dad. Dad, wait!" She tried to keep up with him. "I think I know what to do!" Her father, alongside a few other passers-by, stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her, but her bright green eyes were determinedly set on the barrier in front of her.

The people who have stopped to look at the little girl had moved on with their morning obligations, but her father approached her. "You know where to go?"

"Just beyond the barrier," she looked up at him, "I'm sure."

His gentle eyes searched her face for a sign of a smile, expecting her to admit that she was joking any moment. She didn't, his daughter remained serious and for the first time since learning about his daughter's abilities Alfred Evans understood just how different she was from the rest of the family, from him. "Lily, it's no more than a brick wall." He had intended it to be a statement, but the feeling of a missing question mark lingered behind.

The child in front of him eyed the barrier once again before shaking her head. "It has to be it. Come on, Daisy, up you go," she placed the cat carrier on top of her trunk steering it away from her father and aiming for the brick wall. Once it had been done she turned on her heel, looking up at her father, "I'm going to be okay, dad. And I will miss you all." Needing to be eye level with his little girl, Alfred crouched. "Even Tuney, even though she was mean to me ever since I got the letter."

Lily's father fixed his glasses, "She will get over it, just give her some time."

"She'll have the whole year," the little girl smiled faintly, glancing at the clock. "Oh, I'm going to be late." Eyes alert she quickly squeezed her father's hand, pecked him on the cheek, and then she was spinning on her heel and rushing towards the barrier, the giant brown trunk with a cat carrier on top pulling her forward faster and faster. Half ready for impact she squeezed her eyes shut, but felt no abrupt stop. Instead she could hear an increase of murmurs from the people around her, all of them moving in a hurry; animals—owls and cats mostly, though she could see a few frogs and even rodents around—were producing most of the noise and Lily Evans let out that breath she had been holding in, relief flooding over her. A smile slowly grew on her lips, soft at first but then a wide grin. She had been right after all and all around her there were people in robes, just as Severus had told her. The train in front of her had nearly all of its windows slid open and the mothers were standing beneath them giving their children the last pieces of advice before they set off for Hogwarts.

And Lily was alone.

She glanced back at the barrier wondering if her father would even be able to make it through. Sighing she pushed the trunk forward, gaining momentum once again. Navigating that many people would have been hard even without baggage at least half her size and twice her weight. Now it seemed near impossible. Apologizing to every third person she managed to bump into turned Lily's face into a shade of red that matched her hair almost perfectly, her cheeks getting warmer and warmer. She just had to get on the train and the embarrassment would end, a few seconds more. With that thought and her eyes glued to the nearest open door Lily ran straight into a tall man who just happened to be in her way.

"Oh, gosh. I am so, so sorry, Mister!" She squeaked as the man turned around, his blue eyes falling on the little girl whose face was now redder than her hair.

Fleamont Potter looked at Lily Evans, then around the station spotting his wife in a lively conversation with the elderly Mrs McKinnon. "It's quite alright, nothing to fuss about. Say, are you another Weasley? I think I saw some of your cousins over the—"

"A wha—a 'weesly'?" She frowned.

"Prewett? But no, you're not really the right shade."

"Sir, I am not… I am not either of those things." She puffed her chest out, standing straight. Shoulders back, chin lifted just as her mother would always tell her to. Just like in ballet lessons. Lily Evans appeared tall to herself, and to herself only. "I'm Lily. Evans."

"Hm, Evans. Oh, was your great great uncle a famous Quidditch referee, Pluto Heaves Evans?"

"A what?" She sighed, "I am going to be late."

"Oh, nonsense," Mr Potter smiled, "let me get that." And with ease he picked up her cat carrier with one hand and took her whole trunk with the other, walking a few long steps towards the train and placing both inside.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You better get going, and with that hair you better be a Gryffindor." He laughed and Lily's stomach sank a bit. Severus did not like the Gryffindor House. Instead of worrying about that though, Lily simply offered the kind man a timid smile then stepped fully onto the train, pulling her trunk behind her in search of a compartment.

Suddenly a head full of blonde hair popped out of the compartment, right in front of her. Lily found herself staring at the back of the head until the girl spun around and Lily came face to face with a girl who had the biggest brown eyes, framed by the thickest, darkest eyelashes. "Hullo."

Lily stopped, tried to step back but stumbled into her trunk, then stood in place.

"Do you need a place to sit?" Lily nodded. "We have room here, come in."

"Oh, sure," and she pulled her trunk inside, her cat meowing loudly.

"I'm Marlene, by the way. First year." Lily nodded once again, sitting next to a girl with rather short curly hair.

"That's Alice," she pointed at the girl sitting next to the window, "she's my cousin. She's second year, she knows everything. And that's Frank," the only boy in the compartment, "he's first year. Also the curly head is Monroe." She smiled, her smile as soft as her voice. Marlene was a gentle person.

"Hi, I'm Lily." She finally spoke, raising her hand in a tiny wave. "So, everyone is new except Alice?"

The girl in question chuckled, "Exactly, which reminds me that I am hanging around a group of first years." She got up and headed towards the sliding door, before leaving she turned to Marlene. "I better not see you getting into Slytherin, young lady, otherwise you'll never be allowed to play Quidditch in my back yard again. Applies to all of you." She glanced around the compartment before winking and leaving the four on their own.

"So," Lily broke the silence, "what's a Quidditch?"

Frank Longbottom looked at her for half a second, mouth agape, before bursting into laughter.

* * *

 

"So, you are saying Gryffindor is the greatest?" Sirius asked rather sceptically.

"Not me," James replied, holding a Chocolate Frog in his hand as it struggled to escape, "everyone." The frog met its end.

"Maybe, but I just _have_  to be in Slytherin."

After devouring two more Chocolate Frogs James let out a sound of disagreement. "You don't have to do anything. You can't, right? It's not your choice. You get what you get, but to be honest you don't sound like a Slytherin." He paused eating a few Cauldron Cakes, his pants starting to feel a bit tighter; his stomach had been full half an hour ago, but he was only at eighteen Chocolate Frogs, and he was going for twenty. "You may look like one. But if you end up in Slytherin, I will be the first to… Here, if you end up in Slytherin I will shave my head." He finished the thought, holding out a hand for Sirius to shake.

"Alright, Potter. Now, pass me that box of Bertie Bott's, I am feeling quite adventurous."

James chucked the box at him and Sirius proceeded to tear it open swiftly. Just as he was about to comment on the flavour—which, judging by the look on his face, was either ear wax or Brussels sprouts—the door to their compartment slid open, revealing a tall fair haired boy who had to have been at least sixteen.

Lucius Malfoy's lips stretched into a tight smile, "Ah, and we have found the last one, Macnair. That's young Black over there," he nodded his head towards Sirius, leisurely stepping into the compartment and sitting down next to James. "We've come to pick you up, having a bit of young Slytherin gathering, as we've been instructed to do."

"And who are you? What if he doesn't want to go?" James piped in, unwilling to let go of the only friend he had made on the train. The prospect of being left alone for the rest of the ride did not appeal to him at all.

Cold eyes met his own, but he stared back not allowing himself to blink. "Who might you be?"

"James Potter." He lifted his chin a bit higher.

"Mouthy for a first year, Potter" he spat. "The name is Lucius.  _Malfoy_. And you, I'm afraid, are not invited."

For the first time since the new arrivals had appeared, majority of which were still standing in front of the compartment, Sirius spoke up. "Why can't he come?"

"Slytherin only, Sirius. See, we have Macnair helping me find all of you young talented Slytherins," he pointed at the largest boy, "and then we have Avery, Rosier, Snape, we've picked them up before we found you, cousin. The rest are waiting in the back compartment."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "I'm not a Slytherin yet. We have food here, you're welcome to stick around. Help yourselves," he gestured towards the sweets next to him, "Merlin knows we can't eat much more."

The three younger boys' eyes grew wide as they eyed the food sitting only inches from Sirius, "We can't discuss this matter among Gryffindors," he sneered at James, "or  _sympathizers_. Your _father_  would want you to come with us."

"What's wrong with Gryffindors?" Sirius asked but wasn't surprised to find that his voice wasn't the only one heard. Across from him James' eyebrows were raised, full offence taken, as he stared indignantly at Lucius.

"Idiocy, to start with." Sounded a voice from the doorway. Severus Snape was feeling rather mighty in the protection of two older students.

"Now, let's not be impolite, Severus." Lucius stood up. "But honestly, Sirius, you do not want to associate yourself with the wrong folk. Us old families that  _still_ have their reputation," his glance travelled quickly towards James, "need to take care of the family name."

"I'll meet you at Hogwarts," the Black boy said standing up with a frown on his face as the tall seventh year grabbed his trunk and owl, "family name and all."

Chucking a new package of Bertie Bott's at him James smiled, "I hope they all get to eat vomit." He kept glaring at them until Lucius slammed the compartment door shut, leaving him all alone with enough sweets to feed at least two more boys his size.

After that he lost track of time. At first he wanted to find another compartment but couldn't make himself move. In the end he caved, but instead of finding company he opened his trunk pulling out the first book he found –  _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_  by Emeric Switch. Sighing, James opened the book and pulled out his wand.

 _Avifors_. A transforming spell that could be used to change the target into a bird, flock of birds or occasionally a flock of bats with a vivid flash of blue light.

He pointed the wand at a Chocolate Frog package, " _Avifors._ " Nothing.

It was only after repeating the hand motion a few times without saying the incantation, that James cleared his throat, eyes trained on the Chocolate Frog, " _Avifors._ " A bunch of feathers.

" _Avifors."_  More fathers.

" _Avifors. Avifors. Avifors._ " Feathers and a Chocolate Frog with a beak and wings.

" _Avifors."_  A bird. Its wings were perhaps a bit weak, but nonetheless, it was a bird. A flying bird. James' eyes wide, he extended his hand towards the turquoise creature chirping and flying in circles. Needless to say, by the end of the ride he had learned most of the first semester Transfiguration spells, and had been reading through the first fifty Charms textbook pages vigorously.

 


	2. One, aka So It Begins

**[Lily; To Fly]**

At the very beginning of 1971, more precisely on the 30th of January, Lily Evans celebrated her eleventh birthday. That year her birthday fell on a Saturday and the day before snow had fallen, burying the Evans' garden under a thick white cover. Her mother baked her a cake, and Lily had a few of her friends come over. She would have loved if Severus, her best friend who lived only fifteen minutes away from her home, had agreed to come. However, she wasn't surprised when he declined her invitation claiming he would feel too out of place with only Muggles around. Of course, Severus had been rejecting her invites for a few years by that time, but Lily had hoped that her eleventh birthday would be an exception. In the end nothing could persuade Severus, thus on that Saturday afternoon six girls arrived at Evans household to celebrate what seemed to be a rather ordinary birthday. And it would have been, were it not for the fact that there were few things ordinary about Lily Evans. Not that there was anything quite abnormal either, unless you asked her older sister Petunia. Lily was, for lack of better words, magical. Magical in the sense that she could make withered flowers bloom again. Magical in the sense that for some odd reason her hair never got tangled, whereas her sister's had the tendency to do so quite often. Magical in the sense that she always, without a fail, jumped highest off a swing. Her hair was red, she was light, and she could almost fly.

True to Severus' word that very summer of 1971 a letter had arrived for her, from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Naturally her parents were vary until a kind woman called on them. Petite and extremely informative with a thick Scottish accent, she introduced herself as a member of the school board who was there to explain to Lily's parents the basic details of having a witch for a daughter. The woman's name unfortunately escaped Lily. She would learn later, much, much later, that it had been Euphemia Potter who had come to her house that summer afternoon, but having learned the important information from Severus, such as the existence of unicorns and dragons, Lily dozed off as her parents sat in their living room, conversing with the Scottish lady. It wasn’t long until the conversation had turned into boring adult talk, in fact they had barely even skimmed over the topic of magical education. A true accountant indeed, her father seemed to worry more about the financial side, while her mother was concerned that she would be missing out on important lessons such as Physics and Mathematics. Mrs Potter swiftly brought an end to their worries, assuring her mother first that there was an abundance of various subjects being taught at Hogwarts, naming Arithmancy as an excellent class to expand one’s logical thinking. Once any doubt about the quality of education had been erased, Alfred Evans and Euphemia Potter started talking finance. It was in that moment that Lily truly decided to doze off, for she was neither interested nor equipped to deal with such matters.

Both of her parents listened intently as the witch explained the conversion of Muggle money to Wizarding ones, Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, all of it sounding foreign and complex to them. She quickly brought out a parchment with notes scribbled on it, and it appeared that she had taken the liberty of designing a financial plan for them, at least for the first year. The second year would be quite similar, according to Euphemia, plus some of the books bought for the first year would cover the curriculum for the second one as well. Once the main concepts of conversion and expenses had been successfully covered, the witch insisted that she had to go, despite Lily's parents' attempts to keep her around for afternoon tea and an early dinner. Mrs Potter, though, had been checking the clock quite often towards the end of the conversation, and now she seemed to have been rather anxious to leave, obviously in a rush.

Blushing profusely she smiled at the Evans trio. "I am so sorry to inconvenience you like this. I simply must. Worry not, we'll be meeting on August 15th, Charing Cross Road!" Then with a loud bang she simply vanished from their home. Even Lily was left startled.

Veronica Evans turned to face her daughter, surprise still etched on her face. She had known for a while that something wasn't quite as normal—well, she would say mundane—about Lily, that there was something truly special about her. She wasn't aware, though, that it was actually perfectly normal. That her daughter was but a small part of a much larger community.

Her daughter,  _a witch._

"Darling?" Lily looked up. "Could you show us?" For a second she watched as her daughter's eyes glazed over in confusion before her whole face lit up. She all but hopped over the sofa and lunged for her mother's sadly withered orchid. With both her parents' gentle gazes upon her she cupped her hand around the hung flower and within a moment it had begun to return to its natural position, the colour in its petals turning brighter.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" Her mother exclaimed rushing to hug her, as her father simply watched on in awe.

"What could possibly be wonderful about that?" Petunia had come downstairs. "It's  _abnormal._ "

"Petunia!" Their father spoke in a stern voice. "You can't talk that way about your sister—"

"She's not my sister! She's a  _freak,_ same as that Snape boy she always talks to. I bet he made her like that because he needed a friend. Frankenstein and his _little monster_."

Petunia had barely managed to finish the sentence before her mother's furious face was before her. "That's it," she tugged her by the hand towards the stairs, "upstairs, to your room. You are not allowed to go out until the end of the summer!"

"Mum, it's okay." Lily muttered, accustomed to Petunia’s rude outbursts.

Her mother paid her no attention, following her sister up the stairs. "Talking to your sister like that, again! Calling her names! We talked about this, Petunia. Stay in your room, you may come down for dinner. That's in four hours, you better catch up with your summer reading in the meantime!"

"Can _I_  go outside?" Lily asked, mostly her infuriated mother though she was looking in her father's direction.

"Sure," Alfred Evans was quick to reply. It took Lily half a minute to storm out of the house, and less than ten minutes to run down to Spinner's End. Rushing past familiar houses, she only slowed her pace once she spotted her best friend sitting on an old bench underneath an oak tree. He wasn't quick to notice her. In fact it wasn't until she had plopped herself right next to him that he lifted his head, letting his gaze travel away from the book he had been engrossed in. Eyes wide, the boy raised an eyebrow curious as to what had sparked the girl's sudden visit. They had not seen each other for five days.

"I got it, Sev!"

He pretended not to understand her, as if he wasn't fidgeting over that letter ever since he had received his own five days ago. That piece of information remained hidden from his friend, partially because he did not want to see her disappointed, but also because he couldn't bare the idea of having to leave her behind. Denial was bliss. "Oh, I got mine as well. When did you get it?"

"Just last night," she talked animatedly, "mum and dad thought it was a very deliberate hoax, but a lady from—well, from Scotland I would say—came by today, not too long ago, and she told them all about Hogwarts. And wizarding currency, and where I can get all those things I need. We've arranged that she would take me to… Diagon Alley in a week." It was a miracle how many words she could speak in just one breath. "Oh, I am so excited! But when did you get your letter?"

"Yesterday morning," he lied, knowing she'd be upset if she knew he didn't tell her right away, "mum already got all of the things." He indicated this by lifting a used copy of Magical Drafts and Potions.

"Oh, that's what you're reading." She smiled, peering into the book for a split second. "Did your letter say anything about your House? I mean, mine didn't, I wasn't sure what that meant."

Severus could have laughed right there, Lily was prone to dozing off. It would be like her to forget that the sorting happened at Hogwarts. He did not laugh, though, he merely smirked at her. "Slytherin, of course. There ought to be something in your letter as well."

He watched as she frowned. "But there wasn't. Is that bad? Is that good? What if they had made a mistake? Maybe I can't go to Hogwarts after all."

"Are you sure you've read it well? You do tend to get lost in thought." He teased her.

"Positive! I even read through the section with vials and books and all those supplies we need." When Lily Evans got upset one of the two things happened, either she would turn terribly pale—that was the worse upset—or her cheeks would turn an incredible shade of pink—which was similar to her reaction when she was embarrassed. Severus waited for one of the two. Once her cheeks had caught a satisfactory shade of pink he started chuckling. "What? What is it?"

"You're so gullible."

It dawned on her that she had been played. In a quick motion she grabbed the book from his hands and smacked him lightly with it. "That was a horrible joke!"

"I'm sorry, Lil."

"I will only accept your apology if you race me to the swings." The girl had already gotten up not waiting for his response, instead prepping herself in a low start.

"I have a book," Severus protested.

"You would lose either way, so humour me and just run." With that she took off towards the old park where they would spend most of their time together. Wind in her hair, hot asphalt underneath her feet, Lily loved running. It made her feel like she was flying, and perhaps she wanted to fly. Severus never told her much about flying, it did not interest him as much as it did her. Perhaps that was why she loved the swings so much, they too felt similar to flying. And when she would let go, jumping off one in a perfect parabola, she felt as if she could truly, simply fly away.

But Hogwarts did not have swings, Lily Evans had learned. At least that's what she knew so far, standing in a mass of students gathering around what she presumed to be a giant. Of course, she had never seen one, but the man directing her future class mates to tiny boats seemed to her to be the right size to qualify as one, even from the very last row where she stood. Her eyes remained fixed on him while the crowd before them grew smaller and her group drew closer to the lake. The closer they got, the bigger he looked. It wasn't until she was only a short distance away that she had stopped her continuous staring as Marlene elbowed her, tugging her towards the boat to the right where two boys were seated at the bow, each on one side.

Marlene jumped onto it with ease, as if it was child's play. Monroe, who had not let go of Marlene's hand since they got off the train, hesitated long enough for the giant to notice, promptly passing through masses of other children to get to her where he picked her up as gently as if carrying a feather, and placed her onto the boat, a soft smile hidden behind the bushy beard. Once Frank got on, seating himself between the two boys, it was Lily's turn. She contemplated for a moment what the best method of getting in was, to jump like Marlene or wait like Monroe? Or would the Frank option, carefully tugging the boat closer and stepping on in an even more careful manner, be the wisest? With the masses of other students gathering behind her and coming closer, she rushed forward in a short lived sprint jumping onto the boat, although with much less grace than Marlene had. Perhaps no grace at all. The tiny boat shook, swinging dangerously from side to side and the rest of the people in it held onto dear lives as Lily stood in the middle attempting to maintain balance.

"Good job, ginger." A boy at the bow, sporting the messiest hair and a smile that was simultaneously teasing and friendly, spoke. "Do you fancy a swim?"

"Sorry," she muttered, her wide eyes meeting his, "Uh, I don't know how to swim very well. So, no I would not." Her reply was less confident and more breathless, as she tried to calm her wildly beating heart, plopping down into her seat across from the strange boy, next to Marlene on her left and to her ill luck the edge of the boat on her right. She peered over staring into what seemed to be more of a black abyss than a lake. "This is tricky."

"'S okay," he shrugged, "I am an excellent swimmer. I'd save you."

Lily felt her cheeks heat up. "That would be awfully chivalrous of you. Wouldn't you mind getting your robes all wet for a complete stranger?"

The boy smiled at her, holding out his hand, "James."

She took it, "Lily."

"There, now we aren't strangers. So, if you feel compelled you can go for that swim."

"I'd still rather not," Lily replied nervously, although the lake did not feel as scary as it did mere minutes ago. "Who's your friend?"

James frowned, as if forgetting that he wasn't sitting alone in the boat. Then, remembering his new companion he jerked forward taking a look at the tiny boy on the left side of the bow. "Ah, the blond. I don't know" he smiled, "was just about to introduce myself when the lot of you interrupted. Oi," he called towards the boy in question, making both the boy and Frank—who has been chatting with him—jump before facing the loud culprit. "I'm James, what's your name?"

"Peter." The tiny boy in question replied, eyeing James cautiously.

"I'm Frank."

Marlene cut in suddenly. "Hey, hi… I'm Marlene, as long as we're all introducing each other. And now if we happen to tip the boat over you can save all of us because we're not strangers anymore."

James let out a laugh that echoed shortly through the night until it drowned among the murmurs of other first years. "Sure, Marley. I will save everyone, the Giant Squid isn't having dinner tonight." He proclaimed triumphantly, but the confident smile was quickly wiped away the following second as the boat suddenly jerked forward and James quickly held onto its edge, eyes wide and cheeks pale.

"Oh, I am convinced now." Suppressing her laughter Marlene exchanged a look with Lily, who was biting her lip to stop a smile.

The terrified look slowly faded from James' face as the boat took on an even pace, moving alongside others. "Funny, you don't seem too brave holding Lily's hand over there." He quipped.

With another giggle Marlene let go of Lily's hand, "There. Would you like to hold it now?"

Hearing this Lily felt her cheeks heat up. If she were to rate it she'd say her blush was only a four on a scale from one to ten. Nevertheless she was glad they were quite literally in complete darkness, the new moon barely visible in the clear night sky. "Stop it, Marlene."

"Yes, stop it." James agreed, feeling uncomfortable, looking anywhere but at the red haired girl who seemed to be less bothered by her newfound friend's teasing. It was then that James had noticed a third girl who happened to be sitting in their boat. "Wait, what's your name?"

Monroe Dohoney looked up at James Potter, her dark eyes peeking behind the curls. "I've been sitting here for the past ten minutes." Her retort was quick, her tone offended. She wasn't as shy as Marlene had thought her to be.

 

* * *

 

**[Sirius; What Not To Do]**

Sirius Black sat in a crowded compartment, his robes on and his hair slicked back to perfection. It felt exhausting, similar to the dinner banquets the Black family held from time to time.

 _In a way_ , Sirius thought,  _it felt like home_.

To his right sat a boy whom they called Jonathan Avery. Sirius remembered seeing him during summer at a dinner at Malfoy Manor. On his left sat Evan Rosier, dark haired, dark eyed and taking in every drop of information thrown at them. Sirius knew the boy’s father, Mr. Rosier very well. The strict looking man frequented Grimmauld Place 12 often. He and Mr. Black would stayed locked away in the study for long periods of time, during which Mrs. Black would constantly warn her sons not to be too loud, or make any unnecessary noise whatsoever. Not even breathing too loudly was allowed while Mr. Rosier and Mr. Black were conducting a meeting. Aside from those two and a few older students—his cousin Lucius, who had never spoken to him before, especially—Sirius did not seem to recognize anyone else. No one could be sure whether it was due to Sirius' utter lack of interest for anything that could be described as formal or "family obligation" or a lack of socializing at the events his family had attended—Regulus had always been the son to show off, even though Sirius has always been the more talented one. His talent seemed to be wasted, according to his parents, on trifle things such as making a stolen muggle football ball levitate, or perhaps mending a broken airplane toy and sending it back to a crying neighbour.

There was, however, someone who had caught his attention for better or for worse. Across from him sat a boy who stood out like a sore thumb among the lot of them. In a crowd of expensive robes with green pins attached to the front of them, you couldn't quite miss him. The robes he wore had to have been a generation old at the very least, the sleeves noticeably worn out. His hair was long and unkempt, unlike the neat slicked back hairdos the others sported, strands of it falling well beyond his crooked nose.

The boy, Severus was his name, stood out physically as much as Sirius felt himself stand out mentally. He couldn’t care less about politics. For all Sirius cared, his dearest cousin Lucius may have been talking about the agricultural benefits of growing Puffapods in your backyard. Lucius Malfoy was not talking about agricultural benefits though, his agenda was politically oriented and he enjoyed the attention. The moment they were all seated he welcomed them warmly as "future heirs of most prominent wizarding families". The sentence was pompous and it made Sirius want to barf just a little. Not realizing that it had been the worst introduction Sirius had ever heard (and he had to listen to his late grandfather's speeches every Sunday lunch for seven years), Lucius continued. He made a point of saying every pureblood family name out loud, which Sirius later realized was him calling out nearly every person in the compartment to make others aware of their presence. He wasn’t really paying much attention anyway, not that he was trying particularly hard.

It wasn't until his cousin had reached Severus that Sirius paid attention once again. Upon reaching that point in the prolonged introduction, Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat and gestured towards the odd looking boy. "Now, this here is Severus Snape." A few murmurs spread around the compartment, mostly among older students. "I know, I know. He does not look like much," Sirius mouthed an 'ouch' hoping no one saw him and was left feeling only slightly uncomfortable when he lifted his gaze to be met with Severus' glare. "But as I was collecting young Avery here, Severus had just been talking about inventing spells. So, naturally I thought to myself, this one has potential. Severus and I had a short, informative chat" he met the young boy's eye and nodded approvingly, "and I have decided he would make an interesting asset. After all it would be a shame to see any Slytherin potential go to waste." With that he gave a stiff smile, sitting down and levitating two platters full of refreshments—mostly sweets—among the students.

The commotion that ensued should have been expected and five minutes later the empty platters disappeared, whereas suddenly everybody's pockets seemed to be fuller.

"Ay er hir?" Avery spoke.

Sirius turned to him and was met with a boy whose face was now covered in chocolate. "Excuse me?"

The boy next to him swallowed, wiping his cheek with his sleeve as Sirius looked on in mild disgust. "Why are we here?"

"Dunno."

"Weren't you listening?"

"He didn't say much," Sirius shrugged opening a Chocolate Frog and biting its head off.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Avery raise his hand trying to catch somebody's attention, which he managed to do in a record time for a boy so small. An older boy whom they called Macnair cleared his throat and nudged the girl sitting next to him in an attempt to gain Malfoy's attention. The blond boy looked across the compartment towards the first year who still had his hand raised. "Ah, yes. Avery?"

"I was wondering why you brought us here?"

Macnair laughed loudly, "Well, you won't be sharing compartments with some filthy blooded mutts."

Across from Sirius, Severus Snape visibly frowned his jaw tightening.

"Now, that is all true," Malfoy started diplomatically. "However, I was hoping we could simply introduce the lot of you. We have to stick together, us purebloods. We who fight for the same cause. Our families rely on that." His tone took on a more serious and far less pleasant tone. "We must preserve our bloodlines. Keep them pure. The wizarding world depends on it, the whole existence of our kind depends on us. But I would rather have my companion Yaxley here," he gestured towards a serious frowning boy, "Take over."

Yaxley, Sirius presumed, stood up clearing his throat in the process, "I feel that much has already been said. The truth is, our magical blood lines have been stained over centuries. We have stained them by mixing our blood with non-magical, and with that we have weakened our lineage. It is a disgrace." He paused. "There is a need to clean our kind, we must weed the weak ones out, the corrupted blood lines. And, as I am sure you have heard, there is a movement. We are here to make sure that you are aware of it. To make you aware of it from the very beginning of your education. Some would say, to groom you. First and foremost, though, we are here to make sure that you will do anything to keep your blood-line and your family name safe and unspoiled, for future  _better_  generations to come."

Sirius had a déjà vu. He had heard the speech at home, quite a few times. His mother had a habit of speaking about nasty Mudbloods, and she didn't much prefer Half-Bloods either. Father wasn't as vocal, at least not during family meals, but Sirius knew that what he lacked in voice he made up in private meetings and lavish banquets, all politically themed of course, which hosted most of the last names he had heard spoken inside the very compartment he was sitting in.

It occurred to him that it would be a long train ride, and he regretted that he was right about that.

To make matters a bit worse Sirius wasn't quite sure if he was allowed to leave the Slytherin pureblood compartment at some point after the politics had died down and the conversation shifted to Quidditch, both being topics Sirius did not enjoy. However, he also could not be sure that James had stayed in their compartment after he had left him to attend a Pureblood gathering, nor did he know if James was alone, and barging in after being away for quite some time seemed ludicrous. Not to mention that he would have to relocate his belongings, and quite frankly he wasn't capable of moving the lot of it all on his own, not after stuffing his face with Cauldron Cakes at least. Thus Sirius Black remained seated in the same spot, in a compartment full of his close and distant cousins until the Hogwarts Express came to a halt and waves of students started piling out of it. Avery, who seemed to have taken a liking to Sirius' uninterested mood, had followed him outside of the compartment and off the train, all but holding his hand.

"You reckon we'll be sorted into Slytherin, right?" The boy did not shut up.

"Dunno."

"How can you be so indifferent? Don't you want to be a Slytherin?"

"I reckon," Sirius paused dramatically, "whatever happens is for the best. Hey, someone has to be a Hufflepuff, too."

Avery turned pale, "But you don't think I will be in Hufflepuff? Sirius?"

"Do I look like the Sorting Hat to you?" The Black boy dead-panned in an irritated tone.

The other boy, however, did not seem to be able to take a hint, following Sirius through the thickest crowds, which the latter may have chosen simply for the sake of losing the tiny nuisance. "Well, no. But even if we aren't Slytherin, they'll keep us in the group, right? They wouldn't just kick us out. I mean," he paused for a moment, probably forming a sentence in his head, "we  _are_ better. Our blood is, I mean."

"Sure, sure _. Crème de la crème_ , Avery.  _Toujours Pur_."

Jonathan Avery did not hear the sarcasm dripping from every word Sirius spoke. Instead he took comfort in being reassured that he was, indeed, better than the rest. A sigh escaped his lips, and Sirius had escaped him, pushing past two chattering girls and swerving to the right then pushing between three boys who were arguing about the existence of the Giant Squid. Then he was on his own, letting the crowd take him closer to the boats. When he finally found himself in a boat he was seated on the very left of the sturdy bench, next to a rather tall blond boy whose name was Thomas Carmichael, and who would become important later on in Sirius' life. Across from him was someone whose future was tightly linked to Sirius' as well, at least her near future. Her name was Marietta Macdonald, though everyone called her Mary, and she was visibly shivering, wide brown eyes taking in every detail, from the castle in the distance to the eerily calm lake.

It wasn't until the boats moved forward, seemingly cutting into the perfect stillness of the lake, that Sirius started paying attention to his surroundings. He had heard stories about Hogwarts, mostly from his cousin Andromeda who made it sound like a wondrous place. Some were of course his parents' stories, but those were once again far more politically oriented. Their most recent opinion had been that the school had lost its reputation mostly because the new headmaster had proved to be a Muggle sympathizer, a type of person who did not rank much higher than a Mudblood on Sirius’ parents' list. Now that he was finally there, Hogwarts seemed underwhelming. Sure, it was a castle. Sure, there was truly a lake, and if one believed the stories their cousin told them then there  _was_  a Giant Squid in that lake. Yes, the man who was guiding them towards the castle resembled a miniature giant if he were to trust the text books from his father's collection. Yet, Sirius had been disappointingly unfazed.

At that point in time Sirius Black and Mary Macdonald were polar opposites, neither of the two giving the other a second thought despite sharing a boat.

Then, in a matter of seconds, a few very important things happened.

First, James Potter, who had been talking to Lily Evans attempting to explain Quidditch to her, noticed Sirius in the boat on their right. This realization caused James to abruptly stop explaining Bludgers and instead yell out a loud  _"Sirius Black"_ , which echoed through the night. The shout was then followed by one Sirius Black jumping up in the tiny boat in which he was seated, promptly causing it to rock from side to side dangerously. All would have ended well had Mary Macdonald not been leaning across the edge of the boat and, for whatever reason—later on Sirius would find out that that had been her first ride in a boat—observing the way the hull cut into the surface of the lake.

Mary Macdonald, quite unceremoniously, fell into the lake disturbing the surface with her fall and the silence around them with a sound splash. Everything stood still for a split second until another splash sounded. James Potter had jumped into the lake and was heroically dragging the petite, terrified girl towards her boat, proving that his swimming skills were truly excellent. The water was freezing for September and both eleven year olds could feel their limbs going numb. Mary grabbed onto the edge of the boat, as James pushed her up and Sirius pulled her back into the boat, shrugging off his robes and throwing them around her shoulders. When he finally managed to look back towards James he saw that the other boy had already climbed back onto his boat and was now shaking his head, a huge smile plastered on his face.

"James!"

The dark haired boy pushed his glasses back onto his nose, shaking like a leaf, "Sirius!"

"Quite the show there, very heroic!"

"I do my best." He puffed out his chest, though the fact that he was still shivering dampened the effect.

"I reckon they'll have to place you in Gryffindor after this!"

"Wouldn't have happened without your stellar assistance!"

"It was my pleasure!"

With that Sirius turned back towards Mary, his eyes landing on her still shivering, terrified form. "I am  _so_  sorry."

James Potter, it seemed, would get his robes wet for a complete stranger after all.

Upon their arrival at the other side of the lake they stood in front of a strict looking witch, and Minerva McGonagall found herself staring at two soaking wet, shivering students. "Rubeus! What happened?"

"Nothin', nothin'. Jus' a minor accident. Tha' one fell inter the lake, tha' one jumped after her ter save her."

Professor McGonagall examined the two students, her lips pursed. "Not one year without someone taking a swim, unbelievable." She gave them both a stern look. "Very well, then." With a flick of her wand their robes were dry and warm. "Follow me, everyone. We are already late."

In the crowd of students moving forward, Sirius finally managed to catch up with James whose hair seemed to have somehow gotten even messier due to his recent adventure. "Hullo, there."

"Sirius, finally."

"Well, if you hadn't been all heroic we might've met up sooner."

James laughed, "I had to be heroic because you were so excited to see me you dumped a poor girl into the Great Lake."

"Only because she was leaning over the edge in the first place." Sirius defended.

"Honestly, though. How'd that exclusive Slytherin meeting go?"

"Don't even get me started." But Sirius had already gotten started. "First we all got there, and we were seated in this compartment. Lucius, my pompous cousin, held a grand speech about the importance of family name, how we need to take care of our bloodlines, and I really do not like politics. I have to listen to that at home, why the bleeding hell would I want to do that here?"

James nodded, his eyebrows in a frown, "True, your family is weird."

"I know. Lucius then goes on to name every bloody person in the compartment. Oh, and there's this odd one, he definitely isn't a Pure-blood… that I can tell. And his robes are all shabby, but apparently he has potential." Sirius spoke in a rushed whisper as they walked across the school grounds, the castle growing closer and more impressive with each step.

"The one with the nose?"

Sirius laughed, "Yes, that one.  _The Nose_."

"He looked strange."

"He _is_  strange. When they started talking about blood purity he was listening very intently. I mean, I have no idea what all this blood business is, I've never met a Mudbood before—"

"Oi, no," the other boy interrupted sharply as they stepped into the Entrance Hall, where students were already gathering in front of the entrance to the Great Hall, "you can't say that— _that_ word."

"What? Mudblood?" James's eyes went wide. "Why not?"

Lowering his voice even more James whispered, "It's wrong, Sirius. It is a bad way of calling someone who is Muggle-born."

The boy in front of him stared back, puzzled. "What do you call them then?"

"Well, Muggle-born."

Sirius nodded just as Professor McGonagall had returned carrying the Sorting Hat on its stool, and opened the door to the Great Hall with a flick of her wand. The woman all but marched down the centre of the hall as the first years followed behind some of them scared, some of them chattering, most of them stumbling every few steps, while the older students studied the newcomers. Upon reaching the end of the tables, Minerva McGonagall placed the stool at the head of the hall, in front of the professors' dining table, the Sorting Hat facing the student body. The first student to be sorted was, to Sirius' amusement, Avery. The tiny boy was visibly shaking as he sat down on the stool and the large hat covered nearly half of his face. He remained seated for a minute before the Sorting Hat called out a loud “Slytherin”. With a skip in his step, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders Avery all but ran towards the Slytherin table. There he found a spot a few seats away from Lucius Malfoy, who was clapping as if there was a secret clapping competition that no one else was aware of. Sirius rolled his eyes, glancing down at the green pin afterwards.

While Susan Baddock was being sorted into Slytherin, he carefully unpinned the pin and shoved it into his pocket. If James had noticed this, he said nothing. It had been ten more students before Malcolm Birch was sorted into Ravenclaw and Professor McGonagall called, "Black, Sirius."

Mimicking James' nervous habit, Sirius pretended to fix his hair as he made his way towards the Hat, although the only thing he managed to do was mess it up. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes Sirius sat down on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. He was sure of two things at that point. One, he had cut his palm on the pin in his pocket and was bleeding onto the inside of his robes. Two, there was a rock in his stomach because he had never been more terrified or nervous in his life.

Suddenly there was a voice. "Interesting," it said, and Sirius wondered if the rest of the Great Hall could hear as the Sorting Hat spoke to him. "No." Well, there was an answer.

"Interesting." That same voice said once again.

"What is?" Sirius hissed at the Hat.

"I have never had a Black like you come into this school."

The rock in Sirius' stomach grew. He was going to throw up. "What does that even mean?"

"No, no. Definitely not." He could feel the blood trickling down his palm, to the top of his index finger.

"What? What are you saying?"

"A most peculiar case. Ah, well it must be….  _Gryffindor_!"

The Hat lifted off Sirius' head leaving him exposed at the head of the hall. There was no applause, only thick silence and tension. At the Slytherin table he could see Lucius leaning towards Yaxley, talking furiously. Suddenly, Sirius was glad that he had removed the pin from his chest. And then, slowly but surely, the applause spread over the Gryffindor table. Steadily, he made his way towards the spot where a few older students made room for him. His palm was burning and his heart was beating fast. All he remembered before sitting down and getting a pat on the back from every Gryffindor near him was James' wide grin and a nod of approval.

 

* * *

 

**[Severus; The Best Of, The Worst Of]**

When Severus Snape woke on the morning of September 1st 1971, it was with a knot in his stomach and cold feet. He had left the window open the night before.  His covers were a mess on the floor from all the tossing and turning, and the cool summer night air had crept into his room all too softly. Disoriented from sleep, he moved almost blindly through his room in search of a pair of socks. It took him a minute to simply locate the drawer, which turned out to be empty. Groaning, he put on his slippers on his bare feet, gave a futile attempt to shut his trunk—which had a broken buckle—and headed downstairs towards the kitchen, the heavy feeling in his stomach still present. Whether it was excitement or nerves, he was not able to tell, but even at eleven years old he knew that today would be pivotal. He would no longer be the only wizard Lily knew, thus no one could tell what was to remain of their friendship. Perhaps it had been built on fragile ground, its foundations based solely upon the fact that he was the only one that could make sense of things that had been happening to Lily. Doubting her friendship was the very first mistake Severus Snape made. The next one was taking a big gulp of milk only to find out it had gone sour. He rushed to the sink, spitting it all out before he poured the rest of the milk down the drain.

 _The day had started sour—pun intended_ , Severus thought.

His trunk wouldn't close, neither of his parents were at home, there was no food for breakfast and he had hit his nose on the edge of a kitchen cupboard, cutting it straight in the middle, as if his nose wasn't noticeable enough before. Now he had a bright red gash to draw eyes to it as well. It was one of those days that could make even the bravest person want to crawl back into bed, had their room not been flooded with chilly air. Then he heard the front door open, promptly realizing that he was nowhere near ready to head out as he stood in the middle of the small kitchen in his pyjamas.

"Severus," his mother was home. "Severus, I've brought you breakfast." Eileen Snape may have been pretty once. Standing in the kitchen doorway she merely looked exhausted.

"Oh, thanks." He smiled, still tasting the sour milk. "The milk went sour, I poured it down the drain."

His mother's mouth formed a tiny 'o' as she nodded in understanding. In the meantime Severus had already reached the groceries she had brought and was quickly digging out the warm breakfast food, his stomach growling. Once he was close to her though, she couldn't help but notice the gash on his nose. "What's that?"

Mouth full of food, he chewed away for a couple of seconds before shrugging. "Nothing."

Eileen felt her blood rush, "On your nose? Severus, let me look at that now." She grabbed his chin, gently pulling his face towards the window to inspect the damage inflicted by the cupboard. The frown on her face deepened, the lines around her eyes seemingly sharper and narrower and her eyes grew timid yet darker. "Is he home? Was it him?"

Her son shook his head, "No. The kitchen cupboard."

"Alright," she breathed a sigh of relief, pulling out her wand. "We'll take care of that now.  _Episkey_." There was a warm feeling around his nose and then the burning he had been feeling from the gash disappeared completely.

"Thank you. I've packed all my things, but the bolt on the truck won't close. I think it's broken."

"I'll take care of that. Eat up and get dressed." She kissed him on the forehead lightly, then left towards his room.

His fingers travelled over the bridge of his fixed nose. It still felt warm. When he was finished with food he threw away the trash and went for the fresh milk his mother had brought. He was still standing in the middle of the kitchen when she came back downstairs levitating the closed trunk and carrying his clothes. The clothes she threw over one of the flimsy chairs, the trunk she levitated into the living room before rushing back into the kitchen.

"Hurry up and get dressed, we should get going." Disappearing for only half a minute, his mother came back with a frown on her face. "We haven't enough Floo Powder left for the both of us. You will have to go on your own, and I will apparate to the station with your trunk. You could side along of course, but I am not sure that would be the best option." She sighed, fixing her hair as she stared at her reflection in the dusty mirror hanging in the hallway. "It's best if you Floo there. Stay near the Floo section, I will find you shortly."

Still standing in the middle of the kitchen Severus nodded. "Alright."

"And put on your clothes, Severus, for Merlin's sake. It's as if you want to be late!"

He pulled on his pants hastily, tightening the belt to make sure they stayed on. His mother commented on his weight, noting how perhaps he would be a good build for a Seeker next year. Compliantly the boy put on his father’s old jumper, which seemed to be two sizes too big. Then he was promptly ushered towards the fireplace in the living room, which was not significantly larger than the small kitchen they had been standing in before.

"Take the powder," she instructed as she shook out the last of the contents of the tiny jar, which stood on the messy shelves next to the fireplace, in his outstretched palm. "Okay, now you have to state your location loud and clear, remember that?" Severus nodded. "It's  _Platform 9 and ¾_. Come on, say it out loud so I can hear it."

The boy sighed, "Platform 9 and ¾."

The witch smiled, nodding in approval and set the fire in the fireplace. She placed a kiss on her son's forehead. "Don't move away from the place where you land, I'll find you quickly. Oh, and keep your elbows close." She instinctively reached out to push his arms closer to his body, demonstrating how he should do it, even though he had used Floo Network at least a dozen times before.

"Yes, mum." Severus smiled, stepping towards the fireplace. He threw the powder into the fire, which in return turned bright green. With one last reassuring glance towards his mother he spoke the address—Platform 9 and ¾—and disappeared into the flames. The speed was what Severus hated, it always made him nauseous. But he had learned that if he just kept his eyes shut the nausea would be significantly reduced. So, once he finally arrived through one of the fireplaces at the Platform 9 and ¾, he had but a minute inclination to throw up the breakfast he ate not half an hour ago. Then he tripped over somebody's trunk and landed straight in the leftover pile of ash that formed due to an increased amount of people coming through the numerous fireplaces. The grey powdery substance was painstakingly visible on his dark pants and sweater, some of it even clinging to the strands of his hair. No matter how much he tried he couldn't shake it off, not all of it. Alone in the crowd, the small boy stood as the rest of the people moved towards the train to his left. He, on the other hand, was motionless and not quite sure which direction he should be facing. In the end he decided to look towards the barrier, hoping that he would catch a glimpse of red hair. Only half a minute after he spotted the bright reflection of ginger hair passing through, onto the platform. His heartbeat sped up and a smile played at the corners of his lips for a split second, until he realized that it was only a random boy. Five minutes later Eileen Snape finally arrived, breathless and worried. She frowned upon seeing her son all covered in Floo ashes, but one flick of her wand was enough to remove it from his clothes, though there was still some stuck in his hair. Not even his mother could fix that.

She was tugging his trunk behind her, "Come now, Severus. Let's get you on board."

He was nearly running behind her. For such a small woman Eileen moved exceptionally quickly through the crowd. "Mum!"

The woman stopped, turning to face her son, "Yes?"

"Slow down, we've got time." He chuckled and she soon joined in.

"Oh, I know. I just want you to be aboard soon enough." She cupped her son's cheek, "And to find a compartment somewhere nice. And—oh I almost forgot!" She opened her miniature hand bag and stuck her hand into it all the way up to her elbow. Eileen Snape was an expert in extension charms. After a moment she pulled out a mangy wallet from which she proceeded to count a number of Knuts and Sickles. "Here," she smiled softly and placed the shiny coins into the boy's outstretched palm.

"Thanks, mum." Severus smiled, pocketing the coins.

The witch smiled the same smile he offered her, they were quite alike, mother and son. Then she rushed him forward and they were both moving through the crowd at a rather slow place. His mother left him after helping him with his trunk. Promising that he would write as soon as he could, Severus finally stepped fully onto the train, waved towards his mother one last time, and proceeded moving past numerous compartments, most of them already filled with chattering children. Secretly, he was hoping that he would open one and be greeted by Lily Evans, but he knew the chances of that happening were slim to none. Instead he decided that his best option would be to find either an empty compartment or one with decent people in it. In the end he opted for an empty one near the end of the wagon. It seemed as if he had just gotten inside the small compartment and settled in, making peace with the possibility of travelling on his own, when a boy with his hair slicked back opened the door. He was quite small, and wore a simple smile on his face. Already in his robes, he was carrying a large birdcage in which one of the most beautiful owls Severus had ever seen resided. The boy hesitated for a moment, his eyes travelling over Severus' unkempt look and the remnants of ashes that were still stuck around the roots of his hair.

Jonathon Avery had no intention of staying longer than it took for him to decide that Severus Snape was not the sort of people he wanted to associate with. However, as fate would have it, a large group of ginger haired siblings had just boarded the train causing a bit of a ruckus in the corridor and he was forced to come inside.

"Do you mind?" The boy didn't really care if Severus minded or not, he had nowhere to go either way.

"Not at all." Severus shrugged as he watched the boy haul in his giant bird, then take a seat across from him. "So, what's your name?"

The light haired boy across from him grinned proudly, outstretching his hand as he spoke, "Avery, Jonathan. You?"

Severus shook his hand, noting for himself that Avery was a rather prominent last name. At least in the wizarding world, according to his mother's parents. "Snape, Severus."

"Snape?" Avery wondered, "Haven't heard the name before."

The other boy could feel his cheeks heating up, though it barely showed on his pale cheeks, "My mum's a Prince." He blurted out quickly.

"Ah, the Prince name I've heard of, not as powerful today as they used to be, my father says. Still a well-respected name." There was a sound approval from the tiny boy. "Where's your bird?"

"I'm allergic, actually," Severus lied. "One of those pesky things we haven't a potion for."

The thick silence hung in the air afterwards as neither of the boys spoke until the trolley came. Avery bought a dozen of Chocolate Frogs, devouring them quicker than Severus would have expected from a boy his size. It wasn't until the boy in question had finished his batch of Chocolate Frogs that the awkward silence lifted.

"What House do you want to be sorted into?" There was chocolate in the corners of his mouth.

"Slytherin," Severus shrugged as if it was the most obvious option.

This gained him the first genuine smile from the boy sitting across from him, "Me too. Slytherin is the best. My father was one, my mother too. All of my grandparents actually. It's practically a family tradition, you know?"

Severus nodded as if he understood. In reality he did not. He had very little contact with the Pure-blooded side of his family, the Prince grandparents. In the wake of a new Wizarding ideology rising with the likes of Voldemort, supported by old and powerful Wizarding families, Rosalind and Alastair Prince saw the chance to raise the family name from the dust. Once rather prominent, the Prince name had faded during the first half of 19th century when Alastair's own father sacrificed the reputation in favour of supporting Muggle rights. In Voldemort and the new regime he wanted to achieve, Alastair Prince saw the chance to redeem his family, and make up for the wrong doings of his father. Naturally, when he and his wife had found out that their only daughter was pregnant with a crude Muggle's child, they had disowned her, severing all connections Eileen Prince had to their name, and forcing her into an unhappy marriage where she took the last name of Tobias Snape. However they still had, albeit very little, hope that the child might carry on the family name if raised properly. They would only need to properly hide his Half-Blood status.

The first time Rosalind Prince laid eyes on Severus Snape was on the very night of his birth. She had been at her daughter's door when the contractions had started. The fool of a muggle, Eileen's husband, was keen on driving her to the nearest Muggle hospital.  _Muggle hospital_ , Rosalind had thought,  _as if her grandson would be born among such blood_. She had seized her daughter's hand mid-scream and apparated straight to the entrance hall of  _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_  where the remains of Prince family connections soon landed her in best possible care. Severus Snape was born only two hours after midnight, on a rather cold winter's night, in the care of the best Healers Rosalind could provide.

The second time Severus was but three years old. Tobias Snape, Eileen had learned, had quite a temper. Usually it only amounted to yelling, which Eileen could easily deal with by casting a simple charm, but his temper had been draining her, even the magic she used to have had gotten weaker. On that day, though, her husband had come home early and visibly upset. Finding that she had been, yet again, preparing lunch with the help of magic did not help in calming his temper. Soon enough he was screaming at her while Severus, a tiny child, was huddled in the corner of the kitchen. Unable to deal with such anger from Tobias the witch, still holding her wand firmly, walked few brisk steps toward her son, picked him up gently and turned to face her furious husband. With a loud crack, Eileen Snape had apparated to her parents' house. She stood at the front door for fifteen minutes at least, unsure how she would explain the situation to her family. In the end her mother opened the door before she managed to knock even once. The room had been set up for her and the child, but she could only stay the night. The boy could stay until she sorted out her vile husband. Her mother's words.

The third time Severus could vaguely remember. He was almost six and it was his birthday. For some reason his grandmother had insisted he and his mother come over. His father of course did not like that, firstly because his mother's family was full of witches and wizards, secondly because he was not invited. Nevertheless on the Sunday of Severus' 6th birthday his mother dressed him in the best clothes he had, which seemed to be a rather worn out pair of pants and a sweater, and the two headed over to the Prince residence. Severus' memory of that third encounter was vague, but slightly traumatic. He remembered walking up to the front door, and a small creature answering it. Then Rosalind Prince walked into the entrance hall and greeted them; her daughter coldly and her grandson with a hint of possible affection. His grandfather, Alastair Prince, provided them with the courtesy of sitting at the same dining table as them during lunch, however he had done his best to completely ignore the presence of his blood-traitor daughter and her, as far as Alastair was concerned, dirty blooded child. Though curious about the invitation Eileen had not dared ask what spurred one. The answer to her questions came just as they were finishing the dessert.

"Has he been showing?" Rosalind asked as if she were a business woman speaking to her client.

Taken aback her daughter had to think for a second before realizing what her mother had meant, "Not that I've seen, yet… No."

The older woman pursed her lips, staring at the boy who had by then managed to spread most of the soufflé all over his face and on the table. "As expected. How could he when you keep him in the same house as that filthy blooded father of his. It is outrageous. The child has not seen magic, how could he be showing any signs!"

For the first time that day Alastair Prince spoke, in a calm manner that neither his daughter nor wife had expected. "Perhaps the boy is not gifted, Rosalind. Perhaps the father's blood had done its job all too well." There was a hint of blame in his voice, aimed at his once beloved daughter.

"He is not a Squib, father."

"Well all signs point in that direction," the older man spoke firmly, "do they not, Eileen? Have you not ruined our family name enough? Do you know what dishonour you would bring to this family if this child turned out to be a Squib?"

Eileen was small and helpless, "He is only six years old, and he is sitting at this very table, and he is  _your_  grandson. He may have…  _mudded blood_ , but he also has  _yours_."

"She is right, Alastair." Rosalind spoke, "Severus," the child looked up at her, "can you do magic?" The little boy stared at her before returning to what was left of his dessert.

"Mother, please."

"I was merely asking a question."

"What do you expect from a six year old child? An essay?" Eileen's tone increased in volume, the desperation behind it obvious. She had expected this to be a reconciliation lunch, not a cause for her to drift further away from her family. Not when they were the only ones she could turn for help from time to time.

"Well he can certainly reply, for Merlin's sake! Or did he get his wits from that horrid Muggle father of his?"

"Tobias is not horrid—" Eileen started only to be interrupted by her mother.

"Yes, of course. That is why you came to us when the child was but two years old, and your wonderful husband was upset over whatever simple men like him can be upset about. His only use is his pitiful job, otherwise you would have long crawled back home."

There was a long silence before Severus spoke in a tiny voice, "I made a cup not break."

His grandparents stared intently at him. Then Alastair Prince picked up a glass, making sure that his grandson was watching him. He lifted it high in the air and let it slip from his hand. It crashed loudly as it came into contact with the floor. His wife stared ahead, his daughter winced, and his grandson seemed perplexed. The older man then picked up a plate repeating the process once again, this time instructing the child to repeat whatever it was that he had done before, with the cup. When the experiment failed a couple more times, he suggested they try something else. Alastair Prince was not a patient man. He picked up his grandson and carried him out of the dining hall, followed closely behind by his wife, who seemed calm, and the distressed mother of the child he was carrying. The latter demanded to know what he was planning on doing, which became obvious to all interested parties as the wizard started climbing the grand staircase.

"He has got to be pushed to do it," he reasoned, as his daughter screamed in protest. "Either he is a wizard or he is of no use at all, we will know soon." Eileen had pulled out her wand but was quickly disarmed by her mother. Her father stood with Severus at the top of the stairs, barely holding the child that now stood on the railing. "Jump." The boy did not budge, instead leaning back into his grandfather for support. "Jump, or I will throw you."

Mustering up all the courage a six year old child could have Severus Snape jumped off a four meter tall railing. His mother's scream mixed with his own as he leapt forward, as if pushed by an invisible force, and landed right before her without a scratch. Eyes wide, and cheeks tear stained, Eileen Snape sank to her knees holding her son in a tight embrace.

"Nipsy," Rosalind called for her House Elf, "measure the boy." She turned to her daughter who was still reluctant to let go of her son, "He will be receiving a pair of proper Wizarding robes."

Eileen Prince left as soon as her son had been measured.

The following year his mother refused to bring the boy over for his birthday. Another year later, when Severus was turning eight, her father stopped by to pick up the boy. First they went back to the Prince's home, where Severus was dressed for the occasion. Then he had his very first Floo Network experience. The instructions were spoken in a strict manner, and he was the second one to step into the fire, just after his grandmother had left. The three had lunch at an old, well-known Wizarding restaurant, and his grandfather told him all about the important aspects of the wizarding world, from blood purity to the obligations it entailed. He did not forget to mention the low expectations he and his wife had for Severus, reminding him that he was only half a pure wizard. Nevertheless, he was the only hope of extending Alastair Prince's family line. Thus the tradition continued. They had never given him any money, simply a new pair of robes when he truly couldn't wear the old ones anymore. Severus was forbidden from using their name as his own, because he was merely half a Prince, not to mention the embarrassment of having a Muggle for a father. Nevertheless they had treated him, if not like family, then courteously, leaving him a most peculiar gift upon their deaths. Or perhaps merely an advantage.

Rosalind Prince passed away suddenly, sometime between Severus' ninth and tenth birthday. He did not know when, he merely knew that the following year he had his birthday lunch with his grandfather alone, who informed him of her death as if it were a news report. The sadness never came, though, he barely knew the woman. Alastair Prince passed away a month after Severus' tenth birthday, but the news reached his grandson only a few months before his eleventh. The estate they owned, and all of their belongings, they signed off to his mother's distant cousin, deeming the act of leaving their inheritance to either their daughter, or her Half-Blood son, the same as actively being blood-traitors. Nonetheless it was their beliefs and the Pure-Blood propaganda, which they so meticulously projected onto the young boy, that got him invited into the ranks of pure-blooded students belonging to the most powerful Wizarding families.

It is important to note that at such a young age Severus had been simply repeating the words he had heard spoken a number of times. In fact the first thing one should know about eleven year old Severus Snape was that he was not evil. Compared to Lucius Malfoy, or any of his faithful companions, Severus was as harmless as he could be, most of his zest merely a repetition of his grandfather's ideals. The second thing that had to be noted was that the boy had wit and ambition, more than likely inherited from the Prince bloodline, and often the wrong way of achieving his goals. Growing up as a child who always wanted but never could have more made him surprisingly bitter, even at the age of eleven. Though he loved her, he was bitter that his mother had abandoned the family name and married his father. He was bitter that his father was a simple Muggle. He was even bitter towards his grandparents for not leaving him a thing after he had so willingly learned and accepted their beliefs. Severus Snape was bitter, but it was not the same bitterness that one would encounter in a lone adult man, but rather the one that stings lightly, clawing at the same spot of pride and ego repeatedly. It fuels the need to prove, to be more, and feeds on failure. He was bitter enough to resent Sirius Black for mouthing a silent 'ouch' as he—Severus—was made a temporary fool in front of older students. He was bitter enough to consider James Potter a show off for garnering as much attention as he did with his heroics. Although that sentiment may have been sparked by someone else rather than James himself. Most of all Severus Snape was bitter because Lily Evans hadn't even made an effort to find him. At least that's what he thought, unaware that the red haired girl had been trying to spot him all the way up to the castle.

For as long as he could remember she was the first person he would spot in any place, be it in the crowded streets of their hometown during weekends, or as she sat far away under the birch tree in the park. However, it occurred to Severus, it was always him that had to notice her. The thought stung. It stung lightly, but it stung constantly. Even in Hogwarts, where she could expect to see him. In Hogwarts where he expected  _her_  to seek  _him_  out, for she was alone and he was the one who knew everything. Even then he had to be the one who noticed the other first. In fact once he had noticed her, she seemed quite content chatting along with a few other girls. Passing behind them while they were all gathering at the front of the Great Hall he could even hear one of them, the blonde girl, talk quickly about various professors and subjects. Perhaps it was envy that he was feeling, or maybe his pride had been fractured. Maybe it was not his pride but rather his heart. Either way Severus was not happy with the situation. He was not supposed to be standing alone, without his best friend. She was not supposed to be experiencing Hogwarts with someone else. They were supposed to be in this together, and yet he was already left at the side lines, burdened with the likes of Jonathan Avery who clung to him after losing track of Sirius Black. All the while Lily seemed to have gathered quite a group of new friends around her. It made Severus angry, it made him feel betrayed, and it made him jealous. It made him want to prove himself. To whom or how, it would yet be seen.

But above all, he was annoyed, whether by the Lily situation or Jonathan Avery only time would tell.

"Do you think I am going to go first?" Avery asked.

"I suppose so." Severus replied slowly.

"And Lucius wouldn't be mad if, for some reason, we end up in another House right?"

With a sigh, Severus turned to look at the boy whose face was now completely pale as Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll of parchment, "Doubtful, you just won't be invited anymore. Don't worry, though, I am quite positive you will end up in Slytherin."

"Really?" Avery's lips stretched into a smile.

 _No_ , Snape thought,  _but you will continue to bother me unless I reassure you_. Just as he was about to lie to poor, nervous Jonathan Avery, he heard a loud voice call out the boy's name. Avery threw one glance at Severus before practically skipping off towards the front where the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head. A minute later he was sorted into Slytherin. This time Severus was truly left alone, thus he returned to silently observing his red haired friend, allowing his emotions to overwhelm him, clouding the logical part of his brain and making him doubt the strength of a long lasting friendship. Yet another mistake he made that day.

For a boy who always appeared confident, Severus surely did not give himself much credit. Lily Evans had seen him, albeit for a split second but she had noticed him. It happened while they were climbing towards the castle, but the crowd was moving forwards and with it her, and she had no time to stay behind. She hadn't spotted him afterwards, not for a lack of effort. It had been his fault really, he was standing at the very back of the group of first years, and she had moved towards the front, eyes wide and curious, unsure whether to settle on the enchanted ceiling or the floating candles. In the end, her gaze fell upon the talking hat and remained glued to it as the students were being sorted. Of course she could make flowers bloom, but Lily had never been surrounded with such a marvellous amount of magic. She had eyes only for it. (?)

Her hometown friend was not aware of this, in fact he had not even considered the fact. Instead he seemed to resent her more and more as the students were being sorted. Finally, when the professor standing at the front called her name— _Evans, Lily_ —and that heroic James Potter shouted out that she had better be a Gryffindor, Severus had had enough. A frown settled on his face. It was the last thing Lily saw before the Sorting Hat was placed atop her head, obscuring her vision completely. At first she could not see or hear anything, then there was a loud “ _Hmmm_ ”, that seemed to have come from the back of her head.

"Yes, yes… understandable." It was the Hat. "There is no other option, indeed…" It contemplated for a split second longer but the following moment it shouted out loudly. "GRYFFINDOR!"

The applause at the Gryffindor table broke out quickly. She could see Marlene cheering her on from the crowd, and Monroe, who was sitting next to Marlene's cousin Alice, clapping excitedly. Her heart beating faster Lily rushed through the crowd, avoiding looking in Severus' general direction. She felt someone ruffle her hair lightly, and upon turning around found that James Potter was giving her a thumbs up accompanied with a wide grin.

"We're going to be house mates, Evans," he shouted over the applause, "you'll look good in red." With a booming laughter he turned back towards the Sorting Hat as Lily rushed over to Monroe.

Taking a place between her new friend and Alice, the red haired girl let out a sigh, "This was very stressful."

Monroe laughed, "It was not, I found it to be quite interesting."

Lily protested, "I've never seen or, for that matter,  _heard_  a talking hat! And now it has decided that I am courageous? It's so insane. In a really amazing way." The smile on her face was infectious.

"You will get used to it," Alice smiled, untying her braid and untangling it to let her hair loose.

It wasn't long until Marlene too had been sorted into Gryffindor, only moments after the girl who fell into the lake—Mary MacDonald. The last person to be sorted into Gryffindor was James Potter, who strutted over to the table and took his place next to Sirius Black, who incidentally was sitting right across from Lily. There was a moment where she accidentally found herself staring at the messy haired boy, whose laughter seemed to be quite infectious, and without realizing it she found herself laughing along as James Potter continued entertaining anyone near him who would observe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm updating this to get some feedback. If you like it let me know and I will continue plotting out this fic (because this is sort of a big bite into the fanfic world and I don't have that much free time) :)
> 
> However the updates would be slow as my focus would be on the smaller fics first and then on this one.  
> Either way, let me know what you think of this and I hope you at least semi enjoy it. Oh and don't be alarmed if I change some things I keep going back to some details and tweaking them to better fit timeline, but I've been sitting on this for so long that I just have to get it out there 
> 
> Love,  
> Maja


	3. Two, aka 2 Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First two months at Hogwarts usually fly by. Quick friendships are formed, boundaries tested, and detentions earned.

**[October 31 st, 1971]**

Not much was special about that Sunday, Marlene McKinnon noted, observing the school grounds wrapped in a light coat of morning mist. The sun had already risen above the Forbidden forest, the petite blonde basking in the rays reaching through the tall window. It was true, that nothing was particularly special about the Sunday morning, however a great deal of miniscule yet important things would occur before the sun would set down at the west side of the grounds. That is, many things would transpire that certain eleven year olds would find so incredibly fascinating.

 

* * *

 

 

**[James; On Rules and How to Break Them]**

James Potter was not supposed to have brought his broom to Hogwarts. It had said so specifically and explicitly in his letter. In fact, it may have even been strictly forbidden by his mother, on several occasions too. Threats, however, were not something James was remotely afraid of. Especially not when his father had been chuckling over the top of the Daily Prophet as his mother reprimanded him for the hundredth time. As any mischief motivated child he had learned to push the boundaries a long time ago, and had thus had learned when the boundaries were not to be pushed further. As long as his father was smiling, James could do as he pleased. Not for the lack of respect towards his mother and her authority, but because he knew that she would never truly be upset with him over such thing as a simple smuggled broom. Many years later he would admit to being _‘a tiny bit spoilt, perhaps’_.

It was thanks to an equal mixture of stubbornness, mischief, and exploiting the boundaries, that James had his trusty Nimbus 1010 at the bottom of his trunk upon arriving to Hogwarts. And, of course, because James had his broomstick there, and because the morning had been announcing a start of a beautiful day, it came as no surprise to James that Sirius Black had suggested that the day seemed almost too perfect for a fly around the school grounds. Naturally, being under James’ reckless influence for only two months, Sirius hadn’t been entirely serious, merely toying with the idea. Even so, upon hearing such an idea anyone with a hint of common sense would have disagreed, but James—being an adventurous boy of eleven—noted the dangers, noted the apparent rule breaking, and, with a grin, started shuffling through his barely unpacked trunk. It took approximately two minutes and thirty-seven seconds to dig up the Nimbus. The two boys then left it in the dormitory, on James’ bed, where the rest of their roommates were still soundly asleep, Remus Lupin as quiet as any of them while Peter Pettigrew had somehow managed to turn upside down, his feet propped upon the fluffy pillow. The shower in the bathroom had been running for a while. Frank Longbottom was awake.

As softly and as quietly as ever Sirius and James left their dormitory, their stomachs grumbling, their minds already entertaining the various ideas of flying around the castle. Quite suddenly though, their silent departure was interrupted as the taller boy—James, had a habit of running into people—ran into a short blonde nearly causing her to topple forward and down the flight of stairs leading to the common room. In the end thanks to her fantastic grace—as Marlene would claim—or perhaps James’ superb reaction—as he would boast—the fall had been stopped as the blonde caught her balance, and the boy that ran into her caught her wrist.

“Morning!” Her voice sounded chipper, if a bit distressed.

“Sorry, McKinnon, wasn’t looking,” James apologized, as politely as he could ever.

“You two seem to be in a hurry,” the blonde proceeded to descend the flight of stairs while the two boys followed behind, “especially for a Sunday morning.” Marlene paused on the second to last step and twirled halfway, jokingly squinting her eyes at them. “It’s a bit… suspicious.”

As if on reflex, both boys ran their hands through their hair. One would learn to ditch the habit he had picked up not that long ago; the other would make it a trademark. “We’re just excited for—for breakfast.” Sirius explained.

“Oh, yes,” the girl agreed as the trio passed through the empty common room; the fire was already crackling in the fireplace. “I, too, am very excited about… eggs.”

James chuckled. “We’re going to fly around after breakfast, Mar…”

The girl beamed. “Can I come with?”

The dark haired boy considered protesting but his friend cut in. “Sure, why not?” Marlene’s smile widened as she glanced at Sirius.

“Wonderful! It’s a good, good day after all.”

The three Gryffindors walked into a nearly empty Great Hall, their footsteps clicking and echoing in a rhythmic dissonance. The eggs were still warm, as they would remain even an hour later at 8 o’clock when the rest of their housemates would slowly pile into the Great Hall, stomachs empty and craving food. Sirius looked up at the soft blue of the ceiling as a pair of small white clouds tumbled across it, and shoved a big spoonful of eggs in his mouth determined to be finished with breakfast as soon as possible. Only a few more people had turned up for early breakfast shift before the three of them stood up, Marlene grabbing two apples from the fruit bowl as her friends walked determinedly towards the exit. As they were about to walk out a rather small, thin boy walked inside his hair falling over his face. Without looking up, he shoved James aside and continued towards the Slytherin table sitting down with his back turned to them. James muttered something along the lines of, “ _Tosser_ ”, before walking away with Sirius by his side. The blonde girl stayed behind for half a second longer, curiously gazing at the rude boy. Losing interest, however, she ran after the two boys who were already swiftly climbing the staircase to the Gryffindor tower.

Half an hour later, the three first years were marching across the Entrance hall, which was as empty as it had been when they had first passed through on their way to breakfast. The three had been immensely lucky for no one had seen them walking around with a poorly hidden broom. If they had then none of the following events would have happened, and perhaps it would have been an ordinary Sunday after all.

The air was still brisk, Marlene thought, as they stepped outside. She could feel the softness of the ground beneath her feet and her shoes had quickly turned darker brown, for there were still traces of morning dew in the grass.

“Do you know _how_ to fly? I don’t mean that Flying Lessons joke of a flying. I mean _really_ fly.” James asked no one in particular, barely looking back over his shoulder to address either Sirius or Marlene. The former shrugged and nodded, as if not caring if his friend—who was now walking even further ahead, pace picking up, his back to them—heard his response.

Marlene picked up her own pace, running a few steps until she had caught up with James. “I’ve only flown once before that. But my dad says I’m really good.”

James smirked, running his hand through his messy hair. “We’ll see about that,” he looked over his shoulder, raising his voice, “you, Sirius?”

The other boy shrugged once again. “Sure, yes. I’ve flown a couple of times.”

“Fantastic,” James grinned and stopped. They were quite close to the lake, and quite far from the main entrance to the castle. The boy stretched, took in a deep breath, and looked over at the other boy with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Perfect.”

With that short statement, James Potter mounted the latest model of the Nimbus broom and soared a hundred feet into the air. The morning air made his hands feel numb in a second, but it was worth it. The view was worth it, James thought. He could see the details of the castle, small towers, sun reflecting off of the windows, and behind him – an endless sea of dark green, the Forbidden forest. He had been flying around his home since his fourth birthday. Nothing was off limits; he would fly from his room to the kitchen, all around his parents’ backyard, and nearly any place where it had been possible to fly to on his childhood broom. This meant that for an eleven-year-old boy, James Potter had had his fair share of flying, which would led anyone to believe his flying skills must have been above average. As a matter of fact, James was a superb flyer if he did says so himself (on more than one occasion). A claim which he then demonstrated by abandoning his current spot—levitating mid-air—and speeding off towards the castle. If he could just figure out where the dormitories were, that would make for a fantastic prank on whomever was awake at that moment. James hoped it would be Pettigrew, expecting his reaction to be the most hilarious. With little to no effort, the boy located what he presumed to be the Gryffindor tower, and proceeded to fly towards the window to the boys’ dormitory. The boy peeked inside straining to see, through the sun-reflecting glass, if anyone at all had woken up. Instead of seeing Peter Pettigrew sprawled on his bed though, James saw a red haired girl walking by the window while brushing her hair. His breath hitched as he halted mid-air, unwavering.

Inside of the Gryffindor tower, in the 1st year girls’ dormitory, Lily Evans passed by the window next to her bed on her way towards the bathroom. She had been humming a mix of songs her mother had replayed repeatedly that summer when a most peculiar shadow caused her to freeze all of her movements. Slowly she turned towards the window, her eyes widened in surprise, her lips slightly parted. On the other side of the window, still floating mid-air, was James Potter looking straight at her. For a split second longer, it seemed as if it would all be completely fine, then his face went pale and, out of habit, he ran a hand through his hair shortly losing balance and plummeting towards the ground.

Lily Evans let out a sound between a scream and a squeal, Monroe Dohoney woke up, and Mary MacDonald walked outside of the bathroom hair wrapped in a towel. Passing by a window, many floors lower, Minerva McGonagall caught sudden movement outside as James Potter managed to avoid dying a most ridiculous death. His heart was pounding as he flew back to where he had left Sirius and Marlene.

Exactly ten minutes later the three of them were standing in Professor McGonagall’s office as she calmly, yet sternly explained the gravity of their actions. Gryffindor had lost 70 points, James Potter earned his first detention, and somewhere in the Gryffindor tower Lily Evans was worried he might be dead. She learned, not even half an hour later, from one Marlene McKinnon that Potter was well and alive, if a bit shaken. When left alone in her cabinet Minerva McGonagall opened the second drawer of her desk pulling out a small leather bound notebook. Dipping the tip of her quill in the freshly opened ink bottle she scribbled down a crisp _James Potter_.

 

* * *

 

**[Lily; Balancing]**

Breakfast came about without much fuss after the unfortunate run in with the dark haired boy. Lily had found out James Potter was well and alive, and that the most delicious waffles were being served. The red haired girl, though still shaken, headed towards the Great Hall accompanied by Monroe Dohoney and Mary MacDonald, both of them listening intently to the short yet interesting story of James’ flying escapades.

“Marlene says he wanted to go to the boys’ dormitory window.” Lily added upon reaching the end of her recounting of the recent events.

“That makes sense,” Monroe nodded, stepping inside of the Great Hall, which had been rather crowded at the time, “I don’t see how they had managed to sneak a broom outside in the first place.”

Mary let out a sound of agreement. “Yes, yes. They must have been so lucky.”

The three girls took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

“Even so, that was very reckless of James,” the red haired girl pointed out while pouring hot milk over her bowl of oatmeal, “I mean, he could have _died_.”

“But he didn’t,” Monroe quipped, “can you, please, pass me the jam, Mary?” Her willowy hand pointed towards the small jars full of most delicious homemade jams.

The smaller girl handed her the whole tray and proceeded to talk about James Potter’s obvious flying talent. “Of course, being muggle born I can’t say I understand how much talent and practice someone needs to have to be able to fly that well at our age… but it seem to me that it can’t be an easy sport.” She finished spreading the butter over her toast and reached for some honey. “In my opinion, anything that seems simple is not that simple at all. At all.”

“Hm,” Monroe took a big gulp of orange juice, “you’re right, and wrong. You’re right about flying. It isn’t simple, you really have to have a way with a broom. It can be an acquired skill, but a talentless flyer will only ever be an okay flyer.” She paused to refill her cup. “And a talented flyer can be a great Quidditch player, but then again… if they don’t like sports they can be a fantastic flyer with very little practice.”

The brunette nodded. “Okay. But what was I wrong about?”

“Oh,” the pretty witch smirked, “not everything that seems simple has to be hard.”

Soon after, the Great Hall filled with murmurs of students just arriving for breakfast. As the three girls left their seats at the Gryffindor table the messy plates gave room to a set of clean ones, and the few empty serving plates once again refilled, now carrying stacks of warm waffles, crepes, scrambled eggs, various fruits, and other breakfast menu items. Lily bid her two friends goodbye on the first floor and headed towards the library for a study session. For a Sunday morning, it appeared to have been quite crowded, especially considering the fact that it was also Halloween. In the far right corner, she spotted Severus rapidly writing away, a stack of books to his right. Cheerfully she approached him and dropped her bag to the ground before sitting in the spot next to him. The school bag fell to the floor with a loud thud, earning her a stern gaze from the librarian, Madame King.

“Hullo,” Lily whispered.

Severus looked up from the parchment. It had been good timing too, as he had just needed to dip his quill back into the ink. “Hullo, Lily.”

“I see you’ve nearly finished with the Potions homework,” the girl noted, reaching for her bag and pulling out a pile of parchment scrolls, and three books—Magical Drafts and Potions, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, and A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration—placing them neatly at the edge of the desk to her left.

“The Potions homework isn’t that hard,” her friend replied in a whisper. “Transfiguration is a bit more difficult.”

Lily nodded. “I’ll start with that then. Later, I can help you with your Transfiguration homework, and then you can help me with Potions.” She was already flipping through the pages. “I reckon that’s the best, I have to meet with the girls at noon for lunch.”

Severus was silent for a few more seconds as he finished writing a sentence. “That sounds fine, yes. I thought we said we’d work until 1?”

The girl frowned. “We did say so, but nearly everyone I know is having lunch sooner, and I don’t want to eat alone,” the boy opened his mouth to respond, but she raised her hand as if to stop him, “ _and_ I’ve told you already that eating at your table makes me uncomfortable for some reason. _And_ you refuse to eat at the Gryffindor table.”

With a frown on his face, the boy grumbled. “We had an arrangement. I’ve moved _my_ plans.”

“That’s not fair, Sev. I would have. But Monroe and Mary made plans with Frank and his friend Alex, and Marlene does not want to wait until after 1 to eat because she has to eat regularly due to her stomach issues.”

Lily got no response.

“Fine, be it your way. I’ll stay until 12:40, then go straight to lunch. Hopefully someone I know will still be there.”

Severus nodded softly, “Okay.” He was not as annoyed as he had been mere minutes ago. There had been nothing to be bothered with in the first place, Lily had been completely reasonable. Everything she had told him had been true. He knew she did not like sitting with him at the Slytherin table, though he had not yet told her that he also had an idea why she felt that way. He also knew that he would not want to sit with her at the Gryffindor table, not when he was in the middle of making important friends who weren’t at all favourable towards any Gryffindors. Not that he would ever tell her this, not unless he truly had to.

Even so, Severus had been annoyed. Perhaps it was the old, yet new, jealousy rising at the fact that she seemed to have made plenty of new friends, all of whom, apparently, mattered as much to her as he did. It had only been two whole months and she had already become as close to some of these people as the two of them were. Granted, they had their study sessions each Sunday, and they had even sat together during Potions once or twice. It was, however, not enough to calm his annoyance completely. Not enough to extinguish the light possessiveness he felt towards her. After all, Lily was still his only friend.

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispered ever so softly, “I did not mean it like that. I just don’t want us to drift apart.”

Lily Evans rolled her eyes at him, making his lips twitch until he allowed himself a smile, “You are so silly, Sev. We live in this castle together; we see each other every day. How could we ever drift apart?”

“Things happen,” he replied with a shrug.

“We won’t.” The girl reassured him. “Here, pinky promise.” She extended her hand towards him, fingers curled into a fist, her smallest finger outstretched.

Severus noticed that she had dyed her nails a dark blue colour, and with little confusion accepted her outstretched finger. “You know that’s just silly Muggle stuff.”

“I know,” Lily smiled, “does not make it any less true.”

“Hm,” the boy nodded, finally returning his attention to the Potions homework in front of him.

The two spent the rest of the time mostly in silence, speaking up only when one of them needed help. By the time 12:30 came around Lily had already finished both her Transfiguration homework, and her Potions essay. She had even started working on the Herbology journal, filling in the names next to the sketches of different plants they had been studying. Content with her work she packed away her belongings, the leather schoolbag heavier than it had been before due to the two extra books she checked out. The redhead asked her friend if he would at least walk with her to the Great Hall but the boy claimed he had more work to do, despite having arrived to the library almost an hour before her. Lily did not know this and—after asking a few more times and being fully convinced that Severus could not leave yet—made her way across the library, paying close attention not to make too much noise. Madame King seemed to have been on edge, and no one would benefit from her becoming even more annoyed with students.

Lily had arrived to the Great Hall just a few minutes shy of 1 o’clock. The Gryffindor table was already fairly crowded, and she tried her best to spot anyone she knew, which meant anyone from her own House that she had said hello to more than once.

“Evans,” a voice behind her yelled. Sirius Black jogged up to her, “have you seen James?”

“Uh, no,” the two walked past the first table, not spotting their friends, “I’m looking for anyone really.”

“No friends for lunch?” The boy teased with a smirk.

Lily groaned. “I _had_ friends for lunch, they just ate before me.”

“A bunch of tosser friends, then.” Sirius quipped. “Oi, there he is.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the second table where James was strongly debating this or that with Peter Pettigrew. To Lily’s surprise, she spotted Marlene sitting across from James, conversing with her cousin Alice, and another girl who looked slightly intimidating. “Hullo, James. Pettigrew. Marley. Hey, Evans, look McKinnon is not a rubbish friend.”

Lily sighed, “I didn’t say anyone was a rubbish friend, those were your words.”

“Hello, to you too, Lily.” James grinned.

“Oh, just make some room for me will you.” The boy in question shuffled in his seat making room for Sirius on one side, and Lily on the other side. “Thanks.”

“No big deal. What’s this about rubbish friends I’m hearing?” James asked her, but turned to face Sirius.

“Nothing.”

Sirius chuckled. “Evans was worried she’d have no friends to eat lunch with. I took pity on her.”

“Rude, Black.”

“Show some gratitude, ginger.” He smirked.

“I hate you both.” Lily replied, reaching for the mashed potatoes.

“What did I do?” The dark haired boy protested, fixing his glasses.

Lily waved her hand towards Sirius, “He was perfectly polite the first two weeks. You’ve managed to corrupt him!”

The other boy laughed as James stared at her incredulously. “I did not. He was simply shy. Oi, McKinnon!”

“Potter?” The blonde across turned away from her cousin to face the boy.

“Was Sirius shy?”

“What?”

“Was he shy, you know… in the beginning?”

Marlene thought for a second, “Perhaps a little, yes.”

James turned triumphantly towards Lily. “Ha!”

“Fine, fine.” The red head gave up, her stomach grumbling. “I’m too hungry to argue with you, Potter.”

James claimed that she had been just too proud to admit defeat, but Lily was not paying him much attention. The boy could talk, that she would give him. He would chatter on about anything that would come to his mind, and he had an opinion on everything. From Quidditch and flying brooms, to pumpkin juice and fudge, James Potter had a distinct opinion on each thing he had considered for more than 5 seconds.

Later on, when lunch was over and the few of them left towards the Common Room, Marlene would introduce her to the slightly intimidating girl. Her name was Dorcas Meadowes; she was a second year Gryffindor and Alice’s best friend.

 

* * *

 

**[Gryffindor; En Passant]**

That afternoon, a couple of hours before the Halloween feast found Lily and Marlene walking with James and Sirius towards an empty classroom on the third floor. The two boys were headed there for a Chess Club meeting. Marlene wanted to accompany them to see if she would be able to join, but did not wish to go alone. Lily, having finished her homework and having nothing better to do, readily agreed to join her. Chess seemed to be an interesting game, especially the Wizarding Chess, which was far more animated than the Muggle one; however, Lily had never learned anything more than the basic few rules.

“I reckon I should beat Charmichael again today,” Sirius commented as they started climbing a staircase. As soon as he had finished the sentence, a loud rumble could be heard and the staircase slowly moved. “Bollocks. Now we’ll have to go all the way around.”

James swore as well. “Beyond annoying.”

“I don’t even see why it keeps happening.”

Lily and Marlene exchanged a look before rushing off the staircase. The former continued on towards the Charms Corridor as the blonde addressed the two boys. “You two had better get off the staircase before it moves again.”

The three of them followed after Lily. They arrived to the Chess Club meeting five minutes late with all of the chess pairs already set up. Thomas Charmichael was playing against an older girl from Ravenclaw, which made Sirius mutter a thing or two about the moving staircase. It had seemed that the current chess result between the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor had been 2 to 1 in Gryffindor’s favour, and he had wanted to solidify his dominance over the other boy. He claimed that the Ravenclaw had been too arrogant during the first meeting, which simply motivated Sirius to show him _‘how it’s done’_.

“Why don’t you just play each other for practice?” Marlene suggested

“Because James is too proud to lose to me.” Sirius grinned.

The boy next to him let out a sound of protest. “Hey, that’s not true. I wouldn’t lose. I _beat_ you that time!”

His best friend chuckled. “You have _zero_ proof that that had ever happened, James.”

The three of them chuckled as James muttered something about, “ _not too proud_ ”, and, “ _would beat you without looking at the board_ ”.

“Fine, then Sirius can play against Lily, and I’ll beat James.” The blonde girl suggested with a smile.

“No, no, no.” Lily replied. “I am rubbish at this. I don’t know anything beyond the basic rules.”

“Scared, Evans?” She looked at the boy next to her, his grey eyes challenging her.

“Not really, Black. It’s just that… it wouldn’t really be a fair game.”

Marlene groaned. “Fine, I’ll play with Sirius since he so desperately wants to beat someone.” She paused. “Which he won’t.”

“I do appreciate I good challenge, McKinnon.”

“And James, you should teach Lily a bit.”

“Fine by me.” He replied pulling out a chair to his left and sitting down. Lily joined him as Marlene and Sirius took their seats at the table on the right, both claiming that the other would come out a loser.

“You know,” Lily started, “Marlene is _really_ good at this.”

James smiled. “I know. This is going to be so much fun, Lily.” He glanced at their two friends just in time to see Sirius’ shocked face at Marlene’s opening move. “A lot of fun.”

“You have thrown your friend to the—not wolves… You threw him to a dragon, James.” Lily chuckled.

“He’ll live. Now, where were we?” He pulled out his chess set. “Ah, so you know the basic rules; pawn, bishop, rook, knight…”

In the end James and Lily spent the better part of the meeting playing random games in which James would let Lily win because she had turned out to be fascinated with the way the figures would fall to pieces, then rebuild at the end of the match. Every few minutes they would hear Sirius either laughing at and taunting Marlene, or letting out incredulous sounds as to _‘how the bloody hell did I miss that’_.

At 5:42 o’clock Thomas Charmichael had lost to Hestia Poole, and Sirius Black had nearly lost to Marlene. At 5:43 Marlene had come out victorious. Later on Sirius would tell James that he had let her win (he did not, but pride had always been a funny thing), which would then start the first round of James Potter teasing him about fancying her. Sirius never did, though.

At 5:44 the four of them had left the classroom and started on their way towards the Great Hall, talking about the intricacies of the chess match. Just as they were rounding a corner James Potter collided into something, or rather someone.

_“Sorry.” “Watch it.”_

The dark haired boy looked up at the slightly older student. “ _You_ watch it.” James Potter retorted.

“Excuse me,” the taller boy stepped closer to James. Another boy grabbed his shoulder thus pulling him back.

“Let it go, Antonin.” Evan Rosier frowned at the group of first years in front of him. “Not worth it.”

The boy named Antonin scoffed, but stepped to the side and walked away from the group. Evan regarded the four Gryffindors with curiosity. Few seconds had passed before the third year boy turned towards two more boys standing closer to the shadows. “Come on,” he motioned with his head, “Jon, Severus.”

Lily’s head snapped toward the boy in question while he walked by her, nodding as if to say hello. Once the Slytherins were far enough Sirius burst out laughing.

“Severus!” He exclaimed. “Snape is called Severus. I remember now from the train ride, can't believe I forgot, but still.” A wide grin set on his face, he turned to Lily. “Sorry, Evans, I know you have some dumb friendship there but I just. It’s such a good name for jokes. Especially with that nose, and that _hair_.”

James grinned. “Severus _Snivellus_.”

“That’s just rude,” the redhead commented.

Sirius chuckled, “And funny. Loosen up a bit.”

“He didn’t do anything to you.” Lily raised her voice. “You don’t know him!”

“Relax, Evans.” James sighed, Sirius and Marlene had walked on in front of them.

“No. You two are being really dumb and horrible right now. He’s my friend.”

“Are we not your friends?” The boy asked her.

“I don’t really think my friends would insult my other friends, Potter.”

James flinched, but recovered quickly masking it with a short chuckle and a smirk. “Fine then. Guess we’re not friends… Evans”

“Okay.” Lily frowned. She walked past him, and past Sirius and Marlene. The two stared after her for a moment. Marlene then turned to two boys.

“You two _were_ being quite rude, you know that… don’t you?”

Sirius groaned. “Oh, come on. It was a joke!”

“Whatever,” she sighed, “but I think you should apologize.”

With that, she too turned on her heel and left the two boys to walk to the Great Hall alone.

 

* * *

 

**[Marauding; Detention]**

James Potter served his first out of many detentions to come in the Trophy Room. He was tired. Tired of the day, tired of Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon preaching what is right and wrong to him. Mostly he was tired of polishing trophies. The detention let him out just before 9 o’clock. Not wishing to return to the Common Room just yet, despite the fact that he was not supposed to wander the corridors on his way back from detention, James chose to get a bit lost. The boy took a left turn where he knew he should have gone right, and then a right one where he should have continued straight on forward. Walking about through dimly lit hallways simultaneously made him very calm, and gave him a sense of rush and adrenaline. He was not sure what would have happened if someone were to find him wondering about. The watch that his parents had given him for starting school showed that it was a quarter past nine, which meant that he was officially breaking one more school rule. James grinned. He felt rather invincible. After all, who was going to find him in the vastness of an empty castle during the night? Even if all the teachers and staff patrolled the hallways, they could not cover each and every one of them.

James chuckled, and as he had chuckled he heard footsteps coming from an adjacent corridor. Suddenly, and as quickly as ever, he could feel his pulse picking up the pace. The palms of his hands turned sweaty and his eyes darted around for a place to hide. The tapestry to his left seemed to offer the most seclusion, though he doubted it would be enough. Quickly and quietly, James crossed the distance between him and the old tapestry intending to step behind it and attempt to blend in with the wall. Instead of the wall though, he discovered a door behind it.

Later, when he went back to the corridor with Sirius, both of them safely under James’ dad’s old Invisibility Cloak, there was no sign of tapestry or the door behind it.  It was the lack of discovery that would inspire and fuel many future nightly marauding outings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome, anything to improve my writing is much appreciated :)


	4. Three, aka A Dreadful Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a gloomy day in December. Potions are boring, the sky is dull, James and Sirius get themselves in a bit of a trouble.

**[December 13th; Winter]**

The first snowfall came and went as quickly as the sun would set in December. On the 11th of the month the castle woke up to a thin layer of soft white covers, but by the morning of the 13th it had all gone. Disappeared into the cold ground, soaking it and creating puddles and slippery mud stains across the grass. The scenery made the beginning of the week that much less pleasant. The whole castle seemed to have been entranced in an eerie feeling brought on by the loss of snow, and the perpetual grey clouds that hovered over the Great Hall. Breakfast that Monday had been rather quiet too, as if the whole student body was yet to wake from the weekend slumber.

“It’s a horrid day,” Monroe groaned poking around her scrambled eggs. She lifted a fork that held a small sized bite up to her lips. Looking at the soft yellow mush of eggs just an inch from her lips she gave up. Groaning once again she dropped the fork back in to the plate. “I’m not even hungry.”

Lily looked up at the enchanted ceiling, her mood taking on the ever so greyer appearance of the sky above. “It really is a dreadful morning.”

Across the table, Marlene was spreading apricot jam on her second crepe. “At least the food is always good.” She licked the spoon and rolled up the crepe taking a rather large bite out of it.

“Sure,” Monroe sighed, pushing the plate away and reaching for the cup of tea she had set to the side to cool down, “where’s Mary anyway?”

“She’ll be down soon,” Lily replied, “it’s not even half past… Anyway, you know she only grabs some fruit in the morning.”

“Yes, but we have Potions all the way in the dungeons,” the Irish girl pulled out a small notebook bind in leather. “Yes, it will take us 10 minutes at least to get there. And you know I…”

“I know you want to take a good seat, not too far up front but not in the back either, Mon.”

The pretty girl next to her smiled, the dimples in her cheeks showing. “Exactly.”

“Here she is,” Marlene cut off their conversation, nodding her head towards the entrance to the Great Hall where a small brown haired girl rushed inside carrying what seemed to be a rather heavy bag. Her skirt seemed neatly pressed but she had somehow misbuttoned her shirt, and her hair had somehow managed to turn extra frizzy on that particular morning, most likely due to the humid air.

“Oh, God,” Mary MacDonald dropped down next to the blonde, her bag thudding as it hit the floor. “Why didn’t any of you wake me up?!”

“What do you mean wake you up?” Marlene looked at her, an eyebrow raised, as she spread a different flavoured jam over her fifth crepe. “You have your alarm clock set for 8:10 every single morning. The three of us are usually on our way down here by that time.”

“I like my sleep, Marlene.” Mary muttered, reaching for an apple and a banana.

Lily sighed looking up at the ceiling once again then checking her watch. “You’re not late, anyway.” She looked down at her plate where half a toast with cream cheese spread over it stood uneaten. The red haired girl sighed again. “I really do hope the weather clears up, it’s a horribly grey morning… Oh, hey Alice.” She greeted the older girl who seemed to have been half-asleep.

Alice grumbled taking a seat next to Marlene. “Don’t talk to me, give me some food.” She grabbed Marlene’s last bite of crepe unceremoniously shoving it in her mouth. Marlene made a few noises of protest as her older cousin reached across her plate to pile waffles onto it. “You’re done eating, right?” Without waiting for a response, Alice took the plate and finished the waffles in under a minute then ate a crepe just because she loved those, the rest of the girls watching on in mild shock. Once done with food she tied her hair in a high ponytail, poured herself a cup of orange juice, and smiled at her friends. “Good morning!”

“Glad you’re finally awake,” Marlene noted. “You ate my food.”

“Mar,” Lily begun, “you were on your fifth crepe, you needed to be stopped.”

“It’s not my fault that you’ve given into the weather, Lil.” The blonde retorted. “Besides, if I don’t eat enough then my stomach hurts before lunch.”

Mary groaned. “Stop being so loud, my head hurts.”

“An awful day,” Monroe muttered once again shoving the last bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

“It will clear up just fine,” Alice smiled, “trust me.”

Lily looked up at the ceiling, sighing once more. “I hope. Where’s Dorcas anyway?”

“Oh, she has decided to sleep in and come to History class whenever she wakes up.”

“What?”

“Binns never notices anything.”

Out of the blue, Monroe slapped her friend’s shoulder, causing the other four girls to jump in their seats ever so lightly. “Lily! We have twelve minutes to get to the class and take some good seats.”

“Oh,” the girl hurriedly stood up, motioning for the other two—Marlene and Mary—to come with, “We’re going, we’re going.”

“I knew it we’d be late,” the pretty girl muttered while chugging down the rest of her tea. If there had ever existed a thing Monroe Dohoney despised it had to have been tardiness. She liked being on time, even better if she were to arrive somewhere a couple of minutes early. This gave her time to collect her thoughts and prepare for what was to come, be it a lunch-date or a class.

The four of the rushed away from the Gryffindor table with a chorus of ‘bye, Alice’, and Monroe muttering that the next time she will just leave them to be late, and would not even try on saving them seats. The other three girls were tempted to laugh at her empty threats, which she regularly repeated whenever they were remotely late to any of the classes. They descended the quiet staircase down to the dark hallways, dragging their school-bags and rushing their footsteps with Monroe leading the chase after time. Lily did not have it—the breath—in her to mention how they would be early even, if they kept up the pace. Instead she hurried after her friends as their footsteps echoed against the dull, cold walls.

The dungeons, although usually dark and gloomy, seemed to have been even more so on that Monday. On some days, such as that, the hallways and classrooms would take on the scent of freezing air and lakeside mornings. The group of Gryffindor girls arrived to the entrance to dungeon classroom just as Professor Slughorn had opened the door for the students. Monroe, though thin and frail looking, pushed her way through her fellow students and had entered the classroom among the first ones claiming the four seats in the fourth row to the right. A moment after she had already sat down and spread her belongings to make sure no one else would take the seats, the rest of the girls joined her.

As always Professor Slughorn waited until five minutes after nine to start the lessons. The very first time they had had the Monday morning Potions class he had told them how he very much understand that on a Monday morning it can be very hard to get out of bed and rush to the dark dungeons classroom, thus promising he would spare extra five minutes for those extra sleepy students. It also gave him time to pour himself a cup of tea to sip on while holding the lecture.

Precisely a second before Professor Slughorn was about to start the lectures James Potter rushed inside the classroom, his hair a complete mess, followed by Remus Lupin, a rather quiet boy whom Lily had met while studying Transfiguration in the library a couple of weeks ago. She had gotten into a silly argument with Severus over none other than James Potter himself. The boy took off after the argument, promptly grabbing all of the inkbottles on the table. Lily had not brought a spare one in her bag, and had decided to approach Remus who had been studying on his own. The boy was not talkative, but knew answers to any question Lily had been slightly confused about.

The two Gryffindors apologized profusely as Slughorn waved his hand and repeated _‘no harm done, boys, take your seats’_ at least three times _._ Lily watched as James scoured the classroom, looking for Sirius. The boy in question shrugged his shoulder apologetically once James found him, to his left sat Frank Longbottom, and to his right Peter Pettigrew. In the meantime, Remus had already spotted two seats just behind Lily and Marlene, and had tugged on James sleeve. The dark haired boy followed his lead and soon took a seat right behind Lily. For the first five minutes of the class, she could hear his shallow breaths as he tried to regain his composure, the two boys must have run all the way from the Gryffindor Tower to the dungeons.

Seven minutes later, as Slughorn had just enchanted a chalk to write down the important parts of the lecture on the blackboard; Lily felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Evans,” _tap, tap_ , “hey, Evans. _Lily_.”

She turned to face James, who was still a bit flushed in the cheeks. “What, James?”

“May I please borrow a quill… and a piece of parchment?” The boy smiled sweetly at her.

Lily sighed, turning away and bending down to dig up one spare piece of parchment and her shabby backup quill out of her bag. She turned back to face him, handing him the two items. “Here, I only have one ink bottle. Sorry.”

James grinned, taking the quill and parchment from her. “No worries, Remus has one.”

The girl turned back towards the front of the class, diligently taking notes again.

Tap, tap, tap; she felt his finger on her shoulder again. “Potter!” Lily turned back to face him, a stern look on her face. “What?”

“Just wanted to say thank you, Lily.” He grinned. The boy was cute, she noticed. “You really should pay attention, this stuff is important.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned once again, towards the front of the classroom just in time for Professor Slughorn to vanish the current notes on the blackboard. Lily groaned peeking at Marlene’s notes and quickly copying those to her own notebook. For the following half an hour Professor Slughorn went through the basic ingredients needed for the _Forgetfulness Potion_ and the three different methods of brewing it, each of which had varying periods of lasting and produced a slightly different consistency of the final potion. He had just begun talking about the second method of brewing which they would be attempting on Friday, when Lily felt another tap on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” James started, “I’m all out of parchment.”

Lily silently passed him another scroll turning forward in time to hear Professor Slughorn mention how the first method of brewing is the most complex one, and thus they would not be attempting it during this semester but rather after they had covered at least three more, less complicated potions. They would, however, be attempting the third method as well the following week, also during the Friday double Potions. She jotted down the information and assignments, and then checked Marlene’s notes to see if she had missed anything.

The blonde smirked at her. “Maybe you should stop whispering to and fro with James, Lil,” she offered, “and pay attention to the class.”

Lily’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “I was not whispering with James, Marley. He asked me for a quill and some parchment.”

“Whatever you say, Lily,” she chuckled quietly, “whatever you say.”

“Oh, stop it.” The redhead groaned, leaning closer to her friend. “You know he annoys me half the time, which does not mean I am going to be rude to him. We’re all mates here, anyway.”

Marlene nodded. “Alright, no need to get defensive.”

“Besides, you need to stop ditching us for chess with Sirius.” Lily retorted, a victorious glint in her eye.

“Oh, shut up,” the blonde next to her scoffed, “You know very well we’re both just sore losers.”

“Who’s winning anyway?”

“Mar,” Monroe, who had been sitting quietly on Marlene’s left side, suddenly elbowed Marlene in the ribs.

The blonde paid her no attention as she continued talking to Lily. “I think I’m in the lead. But Sirius refuses to count the first time I’ve won and calls it a tie. Which is ridiculous”, Monroe elbowed her again, “if you think about it because anyone who knows,” and again, “anything about chess—“

“Miss McKinnon”, Slughorn’s voice sounded, much closer than it had before, “Miss Evans.” The two girls looked to their left where Professor Slughorn was standing right next to Mary’s desk, at the beginning of fourth row. “I’ve mentioned a couple of times that this would be the most complex potion we’ve covered so far. Not to mention the first concrete potion you all are expected to brew, if not to perfection, then at least to some acceptable standards. It would do you both well to pay attention to what I say.” The plump professor looked at them expectantly, but not menacingly, waiting for them to agree. Once they had nodded their heads, he beamed at them and proceeded to talk about the importance of Valerian springs in the brewing of said potion.

At the end of the class James attempted to return Lily her quill but she had insisted he keep it at least until lunch, seeing as he couldn’t possibly have time to go all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower and make it to the beginning of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“And need I remind you, James,” Lily started as the two of them walked out of the classroom, her carrying a bag over her shoulder and a notebook in her hands, him holding a quill and a few scrolls of parchment, “that Professor Atwick does not tolerate students being late.”

James sighed dejectedly. “Fine, you’re right. But, I promise, I will give it back.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

He did give it back, in fact. It had just been a couple of years too late.

 

* * *

 

**[James; Detention]**

James Potter and Sirius Black had not planned on getting a detention when they discovered a charm that turns a person’s skin an ugly shade of vomit yellow for 12 hours in a random thin book in the library. They had also not set out to get themselves a detention when they practiced casting the spell. They had vague ideas about the possibility of getting a detention when they had decided on casting the said charm on Thomas Charmichael, which had of course been Sirius’ idea but James had done the execution. Nevertheless, despite them not setting out to get an afternoon’s worth of detention, they were not as surprised when Professor McGonagall told them to stick around after the Transfiguration class. The magical clock on the wall of the classroom showed 3:14 once she had finished talking to them, and promptly told them that they were free to go but to report to Mr. Filch in his office in half an hour.

The most disappointing thing, though, had been the information that Miss Pomfrey had successfully reversed the charm, and that Mr Charmichael was back to his standard colour. Despite that, the two of them descended the staircase on their way to Filch’s office rather cheerfully. Having never served a detention together, the two boys were quite ecstatic to see what they could achieve during those few hours of hard work.

The hard work, it had turned out, was scrubbing cauldrons from what they presumed had been horrible brewing mistakes. Mr Filch had taken away both of their wands, though that may have been in vain since neither of them had any concept of a scrubbing or a cleaning charm. After confiscating their wands, he had locked them in the rather large dungeon room with seven cauldrons that needed to be cleaned and polished, his own words.

“Mate,” Sirius began circling around the room and peering into cauldrons, “don’t know how to break this to you but I’ve never cleaned a thing in my life.”

“Mate,” James looked at him, “I am an only child, and my parents are… well, really rich.”

The two of them stared at each other before bursting out in laughter. Sirius picked up a cloth and a bottle of cleaning solution. “I am curious… Do we spray this onto the cauldrons or onto the cloth?”

The other boy picked up his own pair of cloth and cleaning solution. “I say you spray it on the cauldron. I’ll try the other way. We’ll see which works better.”

Sirius nodded. “Good.” He sprayed the cauldron to his right, the scent of the cleaning solution spreading through air. Or rather, the stench of the cleaning solution. "Oh, Merlin. This smells like rotten eggs, James.”

James held up the cloth to his face and grimaced. “Eugh, disgusting.”

“I can’t do this.”

“I am going to be sick if I have to breathe that in.”

“Oi, look!” Sirius pointed at the small cabinet to a stack of neatly folded clean sheets of cloth. In two steps, he had reached the cabinet and was tying a cloth around his face and mouth. “Better than nothing.” He threw a cloth at James who caught it without a blink.

“Let’s get to it.”

The two Gryffindors each grabbed a cauldron and started cleaning. Soon after they had realized the trick was to spray the solution over the crusted potion leftovers, rather than soaking the cleaning cloth in it. Once that had been figured out the work seemed to have gotten easier, though they could both still smell the rotten stench of the cleaning solution, even through the now double cloths covering their nose and mouth.

“We’re never getting detention again,” James muttered, his voice muffled behind four layers of crisp white cloth.

 

* * *

 

**[Alice; Early, Early Supper]**

“Why are we doing this again, Alice?” Asked Dorcas, trying to keep up with her best friend and simultaneously attempting a French braid, her thick brown hair instead flowing in every possible direction.

“We promised Georgie that we would come.” Alice replied.

The other girl groaned, giving up on braiding her hair. “I haven’t even started my Potions assignment!”

Alice smirked. “I’m sure you will manage somehow, Best First Year Student of 1970.”

Dorcas groaned again, tying her hair in a high ponytail.

It had all started, as she would remember a few years later, because of Amos Diggory. Not that many things could be attributed to the boy. He was five years their senior, near the end of his Hogwarts education when his younger sister, Georgiana, had started school. The petite girl shared many similarities with her older brother, specifically the promise of being as beautiful in the future as the boy was handsome. Granted, nothing else could have been expected. Their father had been an accomplished Quidditch player before retiring early and instead opting for the job of a reporter, whilst their mother modelled for a fair share of dress robes companies, once even having travelled all the way to Chile for a job, or so the story went. Hogwarts was suspect to many exaggerated rumours, having hundreds of teenage students living in it yearlong.

Amos Diggory, though, was not entirely at fault. The boy actually had very little insight in what his younger sister had been up to during her first year at Hogwarts, though she had not been up to many things save for befriending Dorcas and Alice. In fact, he had been much more invested in his budding relationship with a fellow housemate, Daphne, which is of course where it had all begun… at least for Georgiana.

Daphne McLaggen was not particularly tall or short; she was of average height and of average built, but a rather fantastic Beater, which indicated that behind the average looks she hid an enviable amount of strength. Having inherited her mother’s ashy blonde hair and her father’s deep brown eyes, her looks were not striking at first. Not many boys had been infatuated with her throughout her first years at Hogwarts, and though she had been asked on various dates none of them harboured any long lasting ideas of them together; although rare things can truly be long lasting when one is barely a teenager. Nevertheless, most of her dates had ended amicably after which she rarely spoke to them again. Daphne was not the kind of girl to let such a thing bother her, instead focusing on schoolwork, her friends and Quidditch.

Yes, not many people would describe the girl as beautiful. Amos Diggory, though, disagreed. That, however, must be attributed to the boy’s absolute infatuation with every aspect of the girl’s existence, which started the time she had knocked him out with a Bludger during a routine Quidditch Practice. It had been love. A year younger than him, the two met through mutual friends at first, though neither of them spoke to one another afterwards. Then followed Daphne’s fifth year (or Amos’ sixth) when she agreed—after her friends’ continuous persistent insisting—to finally try out for the Quidditch Team where she was then reacquainted with Amos. The Bludger incident happened only four practices after she had been chosen to fill the position of the new Beater for Hufflepuff.

As it goes with some love stories, theirs was ultimately the one of developing an awkward friendship that consisted of half-nods, as they would pass each other in hallway, and occasional note passing during study sessions in the library. It, of course, had ended—or rather started—with a kiss in the Owlery on February 2nd, which had not been the most romantic of spots but they had run into each other, quite literally, and the kiss followed almost as if they had meant for it to happen.

In the end, it would be fairer to say that for Georgie Diggory it had started with Daphne McLaggen. Because Daphne came to visit the Diggory household on more than one occasion the following summer, and sometimes she would bring along a boy, her younger brother Tiberius. It was not planned, nor did Daphne intend on playing matchmaker but Tiberius’ sweet disposition had an effect on Georgie, who had never really given any boy a second thought until that summer. Although young love is often disregarded as foolish and naïve such instance of innocent affection can set in motion many following events that would end up being far more important than anyone could have ever imagined they would be when twelve-year-old Georgiana Diggory started exchanging long letters with the quiet Ravenclaw.

One, then, might claim it had started with Amos Diggory, or with Daphne McLaggen but really it had started on a summer’s day in 1971 when Georgiana Diggory met Tiberius McLaggen. The rest would be history, the rest meaning whatever came from their awkward, yet swift friendship, which led Alice and Dorcas to the moment they had been in, rushing through Hogwarts hallways on their way to the Entrance Hall where they were meeting Georgie.

“I don’t understand why we have to join them on their date,” Dorcas muttered.

Alice sighed. “It’s not a real date, more like a friendly hang out.”

“They could have friendly hung out on their own,” the brunette muttered.

“Don’t be such a spoil sport, Dorcas, socializing will do you some good.” Her friend suggested. “You’ve been far too engrossed in schoolwork lately.”

“You’re such a social butterfly, Alice,” Dorcas added sarcastically, “why just yesterday and the day before I swear I saw you hanging out with your friends, _textbooks_ , all day. In the library.”

The other girl chuckled. “Yes, yes. I am the kettle, and I’m calling the pot black.”

“Nice to know, kettle.” Dorcas elbowed her lightly, a smirk on her face.

“Atta, pot.”

The two girls descended the staircase to the Entrance Hall where their friend had already been waiting, rather impatiently too. Her eyes widened and she let out a sigh of relief when she saw the two of them approach her. Upon exchanging a couple of hellos they headed towards the Passageway to the Kitchens for the very first time since the three of them had stepped foot into Hogwarts. It was the very same passageway that Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew would take on the day Remus Lupin would mysteriously reappear—having gone missing days before—an hour after dinner had ended. The two boys would learn of the passage from their other roommate, Frank Longbottom, who would learn about it from Alexander Barnes who only ever knew about it because he had nothing better to do when his neighbour, Tiberius, asked him to join him and his Ravenclaw housemate Iain on their strange meetup with the three Gryffindor girls. It was during that particular day that the young Alexander developed a sort of fascination with Alice MacDougal, which would lead to him chattering about the girl to his best mate, Frank Longbottom. This would in turn be cause for quite a scandal in the years to come. In the not so distant future, there would be a duel, a string of insults, an enlarged ear, and a couple of well-aimed jinxes.

One might say it had all started with Amos Diggory, but poor Amos had no idea of the events to transpire after his departure from Hogwarts. Daphne McLaggen would leave him a few years later, being unable to balance the workload her internship required and their long-distance relationship. Amos would be sad for exactly 7 days.

 

* * *

 

**[Peter; Dittany]**

The boy sat in the armchair in the left corner just beside the fireplace. Gryffindor Common Room had grown uncharacteristically quiet during the last fifteen minutes. It had seemed odd to him but, having forgotten it was nearly 6 o’clock, Peter disregarded the possibility of his housemates leaving for early supper. Peter usually ate after 7, which allowed him an extra hour in a rather peaceful Common Room. He needed that extra hour to practice for the upcoming Transfiguration exam, as well as the Charms pop-quiz. Flitwick loved his unannounced announced pop-quizzes, and usually had one at the end of the month. However, an exception had been made for the month of December and he had decided to have one during the ongoing week so that the studying would not interfere with the Christmas spirit. Either way the Charms quiz did not pose much of a problem. Charms had been incredibly easy thus far.

Peter sighed staring down at the A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration in, simply put, agony. He hadn’t had any issues with Transfiguration so far, but usually he followed during McGonagall’s lectures and would have all of it written down to the last detail in his notes. However, he had been sleeping dreadfully for the past week and had downright been unable to follow during any of the lectures. Add that to the fact that, while Peter assumed Mr Emeric Switch—the author of the Transfiguration textbook—must have been an incredible wizard himself, the man clearly lacked the ability to explain any Transfiguration topic to anyone except for himself. Without McGonagall’s structured lectures, the book had turned into a useless mess.

Peter groaned.

Peter then stared into the fire crackling in the fireplace. He had considered burning the book, but that seemed to have been a rather irrational approach. He had also considered physically going to Professor McGonagall’s office and asking her to help him. This had of course just been an entertaining idea, for he would never have the guts to admit he had not been following along during the lectures.

Peter sighed, throwing Mr Switch’s textbook to the floor and picking up the least urgent homework assignment they had for that week. It was also, incidentally, his most favourite one, not because it was the easiest but because it involved drawing, something Peter had been rather good at ever since he was old enough to hold a quill on his own. With a tiny dose of guilt rumbling inside his stomach he reached for the Herbology textbook and proceeded to draw first of the three detailed sketches of Dittany.

“… you stink.” The blond boy heard a voice as he was halfway done with the second drawing.

“No, you definitely stink more. You had that cauldron that needed half the bottle of the solution.”

Sirius and James stepped into the Common Room gazing around cautiously. Beside Peter there was none other but a quiet girl practicing her wand work on the other side of the room.

“Hiya, Pete,” James waved walking over to him, “what are you doing?”

“Herbology, Dittany sketches—“ he paused, grimacing at the two boys in front of him, “—you two smell something awful, you know that?”

Sirius laughed. “We know, but James smells worse, eh?”

Peter looked at them and leaned forward giving each a careful sniff, then nodded in agreement. “Definitely. What happened to the two of you?”

“Filch.”

“McGonagall.”

“Charmichael.”

“Oi,” James exclaimed, “that is a great drawing, mate.” He picked up the first drawing of Dittany that Peter had left on the floor next to the armchair.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously, I will pay you to do mine,” the other boy continued, “I got such awful grades from the last two drawing assignments.”

“Uh,” Peter started.

“We’ll pay you,” Sirius cut in. “Because, if you’re doing James’ you can totally do mine. Or just let us copy and switch up your stuff.”

The smallest boy considered the offer. “You don’t have to pay me,” he started, “but I do need help with Transfiguration,” he kicked the textbook on the floor, “I haven’t been paying attention during the last week and this book is horrible.”

“Tell me about it,” Sirius muttered, “you just have to learn to decipher the important information from the rest of the rubbish.”

Peter chuckled. “So, we got a deal?”

James grinned, looking over at Sirius. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Sirius nodded.

“Should we shake on it?” Peter asked, but James and Sirius had already spat each in the open palm of their own right hand. The third boy looked at the two with mild disgust before copying their actions. First James shook hands with Sirius, then Sirius shook hands with Peter, and the whole ceremony ended with Peter shaking James’ hand.

“It’s done.” Sirius said as the other two boys wiped their hands on their robes. “We better go shower now, rotten eggs is not a good smell.”

Peter nodded. The two boys were halfway up the stairs when James spun around. “Hey, Pete,” the boy in question looked up, “have you been to dinner, yet?” The boy shook his head left to right, signaling a negative response. “Good. Good! Wait for us, eh?”

“Will do!” The boy yelled back. “I reckon it gives me enough time to finish this sketch anyway.”

During dinner that day a friendship was born. Sirius and Peter shared their love of mashed potatoes while Peter and James shared their contempt towards pumpkin juice, instead opting for cranberry syrup diluted with water. Later on, as the year would progress the three of them would soon realize that Peter only ever needed Transfiguration notes, not their actual help. However, even when the deal had been done and there was nothing for him to gain in return he would continue drawing various homework sketches for both, James and Sirius, purely because it was what friends were supposed to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope it's good. I don't know how much you (anyone reading) enjoys my take on some canon characters and OCs, but I hope it's not horrible.
> 
> Please do leave a review as it is greatly appreciated.


	5. Four, aka Tradition

**[Sirius; Do It]**

James stared at the painting of still nature that hung so precariously—there was something rather odd about it—on the wall before him. Well, he was not quite certain but James thought, nevertheless, that it had been still nature, having heard his mother often refer to similar looking works of art as such. James often thought that calling those anything close to a work of art would be a serious overstatement, then again, he was not particularly fond of such paintings, nor did he understand where the beauty in a bowl of fruit lied. The one hung on the wall before him—probably many years ago—was, as James thought, a mediocre creation at best. A rather large paining, if James noted so himself, but nonetheless a really simple one too.

"Do it," Sirius pushed, after dragging him straight to the very painting as soon as the Transfiguration class had ended, and McGonagall reminded them that the exam would be much more complex. The strict witch hadn't had the time to finish her sentence, and the two boys were walking through the door and leaving down the corridor, with James inquiring approximately a thousand times where Sirius had been headed to.

"Why?" James asked, looking incredulously at his friend, then staring at the large pear painted in the very centre of the fruit bowl, atop all the other fruits.

Sirius groaned in impatience. "Just trust me and do it."

"Is it going to throw something on me?" The other boy questioned.

"No."

"How can I trust you?"

"We're mates."

James scoffed. "We're mates with Peter too and we turned his hair blue last week because he was being mopey."

"Ah," Sirius smiled, "we did  _that_ , James,  _because_  Peter was being mopey."

"Can't we just go get Peter and have him tickle the bloody pear?"

The shorter boy once again groaned. "You really don't trust me? After all this time?"

"It hasn't even been a year, Sirius."

"You wound me, Potter."

"Fine," James said a bit louder, determination in his voice. He was a Gryffindor, after all, and what were Gryffindors if not brave. He rolled up the sleeves of his button-up and loosened his tie in a dramatic manner. "I will tickle the pear."

"Thank you!" Sirius exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty hallway.

James took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs then let it oh-so-slowly out, through his parted lips. He lifted his right hand, slowly inching towards the painting, expecting Sirius' prank to hit him anytime; he may have been brave, but he had also decided that caution would be well advised in the current situation. As soon as his fingers touched the pear—and nothing traumatizing had happened—he wiggled them lightly, feeling rather foolish. For a second he stood, expectantly staring at the pear. When nothing happened right away, he turned to his friend glaring at him suspiciously.

"Black, I swea—" Sirius interrupted his friend quickly, turning him back around so that they were both facing the painting. James was about to hex Sirius' hair green as they have done to Peter—except Peter's was blue, but James would allow himself a bit of artistic freedom, as he liked to call it—when he saw it. The pear laughed, giggled even, and ever so magically turned into a doorknob.

"Sirius… what is this?" The boy asked.

With a hand swung around his shoulders, Sirius pulled James closer to the knob, taking a hold of it and pushing the door open. "Happy birthday, James."

In front of them, as the door opened further and further to allow them free entrance, stood a large, spacious room much akin to the Great Hall. The only exception were the numerous pots and pans that hung on the walls and stoves that had been placed against the walls, and the blatant lack of any seating around the large tables.

"Wicked," James whispered as the two of them stepped slowly inside, "we have to bring Remus."

"As soon as he's released from the Hospital Wing," Sirius agreed, "I swear he gets sick too often, he should have that checked out at Mungo's maybe it's something serious."

James shrugged, taking a few cautious steps and staring around in awe not noticing a couple of house elves rushing towards him and Sirus. "Don't know, mate, he is a bit fragile looking. And he was fine for a couple of months."

"Sure, maybe he just does not handle the common cold well." House elves have brought out two chairs for James and Sirius to sit on from the back room, and were now rushing towards them while both boys stood still at the very beginning of the Kitchens. "My uncle Alphard is that way. It's dreadful really; he has to sleep away the cold. Not even Pepperup helps him."

"Hello, Misters!" A high-pitched voice came from the short house elf standing in front of them. "How may Pokey help you, Sirs?" She motioned for them to sit in the two chairs that have by then been placed in front of them, and they did.

James looked at the small house elf, then back at Sirius who shrugged his shoulders. "Uh, I'm… it's my birthday?"

Sirius chuckled and the small elf let out a joyous squeal. "Birthday!" She turned to face a couple of house elves. "It's Mister's birthday," she clapped her hands, "cake time!"

James raised his eyebrows in shock. "Oh, no, there's no need—"

Pokey turned back to face the two boys, a determined look on her face. "Nonsense, Mister. It fits right into the dessert schedule." She smiled. "And Pokey loves cake!"

"Oh, okay…"

Sirius laughed. "Pokey is great."

At that, the small house elf beamed and turned on her heel rushing towards two other elves she had instructed to get started on the cake preparations. James looked at the three of them as they turned right, moving towards the far left part of the Kitchens, when they disappeared from his eyesight. He looked back at Sirius, at a loss for words.

"A cake." He breathed.

"Once again, happy birthday." Sirius grinned, noticing from the corner of his eye another house elf rushing towards them, and carrying a small platter with two cups balanced atop it.

The house elf placed the two cups carefully in front of the two surprised Gryffindors. "Pumpkin juice for Mister, and cranberry for Mister." He had gone as quickly as Pokey had leaving James and Sirius to stare at their respective cups in slight wonder and awe.

"How?" James started, taking a sip from his cup.

"Don't ask." Sirius took a sip of his pumpkin juice.

"We have to bring Remus."

"First thing when he's released." Sirius nodded taking another sip.

It had been no more than 10 minutes when Pokey appeared once again, briskly walking to their table. "Excuse me, Sirs, but what is Mister's name?"

She looked expectantly at James. "Oh, James. Potter."

The house elf nodded and left once again. However, she had not been missing for long that time. The house elf returned a couple of minutes later, accompanied by another one, slightly taller, and carrying an impressively sized two-tiered birthday cake in red and gold with a  _Happy Birthday Sir James Potter_  written in cursive. The two house elves placed it on the table in front of James and Sirius. In its impressive size the cake's diameter was nearly the size of the actual table. With a snap of Pokey's fingers, the candles on top of it lit all at once, after which she ushered a group of a dozen of house elves in front of James and Sirius. The twelve of them proceeded to sing one of the worst—yet, somehow, the best—renditions of the birthday song either of the two boys had ever heard.

Later on, after both, Sirius and James, had eaten at least two sizable slices of the cake, James called Pokey over.

The small elf was by their side in a matter of seconds. "Yes, Sir Potter?"

"Pokey, is there any way of having this cake transported to the Gryffindor Common Room?" He inquired. "We'd carry it," he pointed to Sirius and himself, "but we would also like to get some juice upstairs… secretly of course, to surprise our housemates with the cake."

Sirius nodded. "Plus, it's rather big."

Pokey's eyes widened in realization. "Yes, yes. No worries. We will get it up to the Common Room without a problem. No one will see!"

"Great, great," James looked at Sirius, "that's perfect."

Sirius smirked. "You're welcome."

"I wish Lupin could be there."

"Eh, there'll be plenty of birthdays to come."

 

* * *

 

**[Lily; Therein Lies The Issue]**

Severus arrived at the library fifteen minutes late, according to the old watch on his right wrist. However, Lily was nowhere to be found, which meant that she was to be even later than he was. This, of course, meant that Severus had not actually been late after all, not the way he saw it. He scanned the near empty study space of the library looking for a table with The Comfortable Chairs. Every Hogwarts student, by their second month there, had learned of The Comfortable Chairs in the library. If they had not, they have not yet stepped foot into the school library, nor did they have friends to inform them of the existence of such comfortable chairs. Severus had been lucky enough that Lily seemed to have made a significant amount of friends. By their third week at Hogwarts, she had informed him of the existence of The Comfortable Chairs, and by their fifth week, the two friends had managed to sit on a pair of such chairs for the very first time.

In the library, there existed exactly three study tables, and around each stood three comfortable chairs, mixed in with the rest. These chairs represented the sole reason why arriving at the library early in the morning was somehow worth leaving the comfort of a warm bed, and losing that bit of extra sleep for. However, on that particular Monday, Severus had walked into the library just before 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Most of the upperclassmen either had lessons to get to, or were just finished with some and thus, took their time eating lunch and relaxing while chattering about with their friends. Severus, on the other hand, decided to rush to the library to save a pair of the comfortable chairs for himself and his friend, Lily.

Lily who was still nowhere to be found, even after Severus had successfully located two of the mentioned chairs and took a seat. Lily who was still late, which made Severus anxious, which made him check his old, worn wristwatch approximately every 30 seconds until the girl finally rushed in through the entrance earning herself a stern, reprimanding look from Madame King. She mouthed a quick apology in the librarian's general direction and meandered her way through desks and chairs until she reached her friend.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," she said breathlessly, plopping down on the chair next to Severus, "oh, the comfy chairs."

The boy smiled. "I got here a bit early to save us a few."

"Good thinking, good thinking." Lily agreed, her cheeks flushed, as she observed that the rest of the chairs had indeed been taken by the time she walked in. "Especially with McGonagall's exam coming up, people are bound to be spending more time here the next couple of days."

"Exactly," he smiled, "I thought about everything."

"I see. It was very smart of you, Sev. I appreciate it."

"No problem, I mean I'd rather sit in a comfy chair, too."

"Oh, so you don't prefer it when your whole body goes stiff and you can't feel your butt cheeks anymore?" They both laughed.

"Can't say I do."

"Interesting," she grinned. "Also sorry I was a bit late, hope you weren't waiting for too long."

Severus waved his hand dismissively. "It's no big deal, I had to catch up with the Charms homework you did yesterday, anyway. I've just about finished, actually."

"Oh, do you need help?"

"Not really," he replied unconvincingly, frowning at the textbook, "why were you late even? Had to try every dessert?"

Lily giggled. "No. I stopped to play a game of Chess with James in the Common Room," she looked apologetically at the boy who continued listening to her while repeating the same wand motion over and over again, "and I guess I lost track of time. I really am quite awful at it… Chess, I mean."

"I can teach you sometime," he repeated the motion again, "my mum and I tend to play it on rainy days."

Severus repeated the wand motion once again.

"Stop that." Lily blurted out. "You're flourishing your wand too much. Go softer and more precise, and you have to finish with a horizontal swift line. Like this," she picked up her wand, drawing a shape in the air with it, "and you add the incantation."

"I've done that," Severus protested, " _exactly_  as you did."

"No, no you haven't." The girl replied. "You draw more of a circle, it has to have soft edges but still have a triangular shape." She repeated the motion, albeit much slower.

The boy next to her grumbled. "Charms are so girly, and dumb."

"They're not." Lily frowned.

"Are too. There are so many different flourishes and shapes." He waved his wand around mockingly. "DADA is better, far more precise and to the point."

"Just because you're not good at something does not mean it should be disregarded."

"I know Charms are useful…" Severus sighed. "It's just that, well, I really hate this one spell."

Lily laughed. "I've noticed."

"It's not funny."

"Come on," she reached across and took a hold of his right wrist, "you want to memorize  _this_  motion." Lily led his hand, tracing the needed shape perfectly, as her friend held back from rolling his eyes.

"Okay, fine." He looked at the few broken quill pieces on the desk, and repeated the motion. " _Reparo_." The quill pieces assembled to form a whole quill once again. Severus smiled smugly picking up the quill. However, once he picked it up the quill fell apart once again wiping away the smug smile off the boy's face, instead replacing it with an annoyed frown.

"Try adding a modifier," Lily suggested grabbing Severus' textbook and flipping through the modifiers at the end of it, "here,  _Plectrum Reparo_. That ought to do it."

Once again, the boy sitting next to her repeated the motion now using the enhanced incantation she suggested. The quill, as predicted, mended itself once again. This time when he picked it up, thought, it stayed whole.

"There you go." She grinned. "Now, I think we were supposed to be practicing Transfiguration, not Charms."

Severus reached into his old shabby school bag and pulled out his Transfiguration notes. "I don't see why we have to practice something I'm good at." He teased.

"Shut it," she gave the boy a stern look, "and don't insult Charms any more. You just lack the finesse."

"You lack some sanity, Lil." He mumbled.

"Shh," the red haired girl took her best friend's notes to look over the spells they had to cover, "oh, and won't you pass me the textbook, I borrowed mine to Monroe last time and she still hasn't returned it. I suspect she lost hers and is keeping mine hostage."

The boy chuckled softly and without a second thought, bent down and dug out an old used book from his school bag. As it plopped down on the table, it raised some dust and attracted the attention of Madame King who looked at the pair sternly, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. Severus shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic manner and pushed the book closer to Lily who took it swiftly, eager to finish the homework as soon as possible, and hoping that would give them time to talk about things other than schoolwork. It had seemed it had been the only thing they would ever talk about lately, classes, schoolwork, homework, and the magical uses of this and that. Lily, of course, knew it was due to different exams and pop-quizzes lining up one after another, together with different schedules and essays on nearly each topic they covered in classes that were supposed to keep them continuously studying. Either way, the two friends had not talked much about anything but school since the girl's birthday and Lily resented it.

For the following forty minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were the scribbling of quill across the parchment as the students in the library copied notes, added notes, opened and shut their massive textbooks, or simply doodled about on their parchment while procrastinating their studying. Now and then one could hear a couple of murmurs of students asking each other for help, or a spare quill, or them just individually muttering the incantation to the spell as they moved their wandless hand to perfect the motion. The comfort of the near silence was only ever truly interrupted by the louder sounds of shuffling footsteps as someone walked from their seat towards the bookshelves and back, or the arrival of new studying-prepared students through the library door.

Only a week ago, each time someone new would arrive the library door would have squeaked in a most uncomfortable manner. Apparently, though, Madame King had managed to find Mr Filch, the caretaker, and somehow had succeeded in bribing him into fixing the squeaking door. Rumour spread around the castle, thought mostly around the student body, that she had bribed him with a promise of a date, and a small kitten as a gift. Though most students thought it to be a ridiculous story, few—that frequented Filch's office—knew of the sudden existence of a small kitten, which seemed to stand out terribly in his dark office.

After being startled by a random Ravenclaw student falling out of her chair—she really shouldn't have been leaning that far back in her chair, Lily thought—the red haired girl placed her quill in the near empty ink bottle, looking down at the parchment in front of her. Her Transfiguration summary notes stared back at her in pretty cursive. She sighed looking up at the clock and noting she had nearly fifteen minutes left until her next class. Her gaze wandered even higher, towards the massive, tall windows, and she noticed the rays of sunshine coming through them, bathing the top of the library in gold and lightning up the specks of dust that floated in air. It had been the first sunny day in over a week, and all they had done was spend it in different classrooms and the library.

Lily huffed in disappointment.

"What is it?" Severus whispered.

"It's sunny outside."

"And that's bad?"

"It is bad when we have to spend the day on the inside," Lily explained. "Hopefully it'll still be sunny when I get back to the Common Room." She looked dreamily at the specks of dust dancing in the sunlight. "The Gryffindor Common Room is really beautiful, and the view is amazing, especially when it's sunny outside."

"Wouldn't know." Snape muttered.

"Slytherin is in the dungeons, right?" The boy nodded. "I can't imagine that. It must be really dark."

"It has some light." Severus replied, looking over at Lily who continued to stare off towards the tall windows while resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

"I'm glad I'm in Gryffindor," she smiled, looking up at the tall windows again. "I really would hate sleeping underground."

Severus made a noise of disapproval. "Our Common Room is _much_  larger than yours."

"But it does not have  _the view_."

"Whatever, Lily," he snapped. "You wanted to be in Slytherin, too."

The girl frowned. "Well, I didn't know much when I came here," she looked at him pointedly, almost accusingly. "You made Slytherin sound like the greatest House ever."

"Well, it is," Severus argued.

"See, that's so rude," Lily smiled incredulously. "Are you then better? Than me?"

The boy frowned, caught in the trap. "I did not say that. You would have deserved to be in Slytherin."

"But, I'm not."

"But, you're not."

"Are you going to be upset with me now?"

"No."

"Hm."

"Why'd you even hate Gryffindor that much?" Lily asked, a bit louder her voice carrying through the air. "I know you do. You've talked so much about Slytherin this summer, but you also talked about Gryffindor. And none of it was good..."

Severus sighed, avoiding eye contact with his friend. Footsteps sounded behind them, approaching the two.

"I would like to know that, too." James Potter stepped out of the shadows in what he assumed was a sufficiently dramatic manner, carrying two thin books in his left hand. He had been wasting time until the next class by searching for books on some practical jinxes that Sirius thought may be utilized for some quality fun. When James suggested Sirius join him, the boy simply waved his hand and threw himself on James' bed in the boys' dormitory muttering something about desperately needing a nap.

"Potter," Severus muttered.

"Hullo, James," Lily smiled.

"Yes, yes, hullo," he waved his hand. "So, Snivellus, why is Gryffindor so horrible?" He placed the two books on the table, taking a seat across from Snape, and smirking at him tauntingly. "Snivellus?"

"James," Lily started but was cut off by her best friend.

"Because of gits like you."

"Ouch," James said in a flat tone of voice, "I am hurt."

"James," Lily started once again, "can you please drop it?"

"I can," the boy nodded. "But do I want to, Snivelly?"

"You'd better." Snape muttered clenching his fist around the wand that, up until then, lied peacefully on the table.

"Or what," the dark haired boy chuckled, "are you going to hex me?"

"Sev," Lily looked at him as the boy contemplated his next move. "Stop it. James will learn to mind his own business," she looked at the boy in question, "won't he?"

"I might, I am awful at following rules, though," he grinned, "haven't you heard?"

Severus' wand let out a few sparks. "Maybe you really should keep your messy, big head out of other people's business, Potter."

James stood up, grabbing the two books off the table. "Maybe you should wash your hair every now and again, Snape." He checked the time on his wristwatch, then looked expectantly at Lily. "You coming, or are you planning on being late for Transfiguration?"

The red haired girl looked at the library clock and, noting the time, hurriedly put her things in her bag swinging it across her shoulder, only to have it taken away by the boy standing next to her. She protested for a second, before deciding she did not really care and thus bid her friend goodbye with an apologetic smile on her face, hoping he would be calmer by dinnertime when they would surely see each other again. The two of them, the dark haired boy and the red haired girl, walked out of the library with only five minutes to spare.

"We'll be late," Lily muttered as they headed for the staircase. "And give me back my bag, I don't know what you're playing at, James, but stop."

"We won't be late, relax," he retorted. "And I'm just helping you carry your bag, do you enjoy carrying bricks around?"

"I do not carry bricks!" Lily squeaked out, causing James to laugh at her. "I just… I planned on studying the whole day."

"Hm."

"Give it back."

"Nope," the boy replied, "my mum taught me to be polite."

Lily scoffed, "Could have fooled me."

"What does that mean?"

"You were being awfully rude to Sev."

James sighed. "Well,  _Sev_ " he spat, "has been a bit rude to me last week."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"Believe what you want, Lily," he shrugged, "but I'm carrying your bag whether you like it or not."

Lily let out a sound of frustration, but thanked him anyway. "We are so late. McGonagall will kill us."

"Oh, calm down, you're such a teacher's pet." They turned a corner. "Besides, nothing will happen if you're late once."

"You're horrible," she muttered, "terrible, James Potter! And rude."

"I'm not!" James laughed.

"You keep calling Sev Snivellus, that's rude." Lily giggled despite herself.

"He called me a git!"

"You were being one."

" _You_  are being awfully rude, you know, Evans?" He stopped mid-staircase and turned to face her.

"I am perfectly nice," she frowned.

"Ah, but you haven't wished me a happy birthday."

"What?"

"It's my birthday," he explained.

"Oh."

"Oh," he mocked.

"Happy birthday, James," she smiled politely, before pushing past him and climbing towards the next floor, "now move or we're going to be late."

They arrived just in time not to be late. However, they were both stuck sitting in the front row together seeing as all the other places had been taken.

 

* * *

 

**[Severus; Envy]**

Once left alone in the library Severus Snape had very little to do except ponder over the events that have passed recently. His Charms homework was finished, had been ever since Lily had helped him out, and he was certain that any more of Transfiguration would make him sick. Thus, he sat in silence, mindlessly scribbling on a piece of parchment. Of course, he could have gotten started on the History of Magic essay on the introduction of werewolves into magical society, followed closely by the first iteration of  _Werewolf Code of Conduct_. However, that particular essay required at least three different books and extensive notes, not to mention that Professor Binns had asked for a whole foot for that essay, more than likely unaware that he was teaching first year students. Severus considered it for a moment again, before giving up. Instead he dipped his quill into the near empty ink bottle and drew a funny caricature of James Potter on the parchment.

He really did not understand—Severus did not—how Lily could stand to be anything close to friends with the boy. James Potter was a privileged, arrogant, spoilt git… at least Severus thought so. And yet. Yet, Lily still liked his company. And yet, lately she'd been spending less time with Severus, and the boy could only assume that what time once belonged to him now belonged to her new friends, among which she surely counted James Potter. Though Severus had heard her reprimand the boy on more than one occasion, he knew she did not dislike him—not as much as Severus would have wanted her to—usually she told him, James, that he was being horribly rude and suggested a different approach to the situation. Neither Black nor Potter seemed to enjoy any approach to a situation that was not their own invention, which—once again—annoyed Severus to no end.

Later on, though, they would all sit together at the Gryffindor table. Potter, Black and those two other boys that dragged along behind them, and Lily with the girls, all of them talking animatedly and having a grand time while he, Severus, was more often than not stuck with Avery. Jonathan Avery, the dimmest of the dim, was his best friend—if he could even call the boy his friend—after Lily. Of course, the Slytherin boy thought his feelings had been justified. After all, even a couple of older Slytherins quickly agreed that Potter and Black were an unwarranted sensation, and simply put—rather annoying. However, it would take a long time—at least two years—for Severus to understand that he had never been fully justified, and what he had been feeling from the very start towards the boys—especially James—was something much more akin to envy (no, it was not even jealousy, it was pure envy).

So he would stay, surrounded by his Slytherin friends, observing the Gryffindor table while Jonathan Avery would chatter on about his father. One could learn a great deal from Jonathan if he were inclined to listen, and had the time and patience to weed out unnecessary information. Severus possessed neither of those qualities and yet he had learned quite a few unimportant things about Jonathan.

For example, Jonathan was incapable of writing his own homework without any help – an entirely useless fact he had learned by listening to the boy and through sheer observation. The boy would not be able to find an answer in a textbook if one told him what page to look on. Instead, he resorted to asking Severus, or any of the older Slytherins that he knew would help him. Most would lie and get away but a select few—primarily Rosier and Nott—would take some time to either point out the answers to him, not out of the goodness of their hearts though, but because Lucius Malfoy had instructed them to do so. Help out poor Avery, his parents are important; and when Lucius  _suggests_  you do something, usually you do it because it is the best way to go about that. None of them, however, had considered helping Severus, not that he needed any. Yet, the boy thought, he doubted the help would be given even if he did ask for it.

Suddenly he was jerked away from his train of thought by a sudden book being thrown on a table near him, so he took a second to look around the library. The space had been nearly empty, which was not surprising as it was nearing 3 o'clock which meant that most of the students either had classes to attend or have given up on studying, instead opting to return to their Common Rooms for an afternoon nap. Either way, as far as Severus knew, only first year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had the period empty. Just as he was about to pack up—and head towards the Common Room for an afternoon nap—the library door opened and none other than Jonathan Avery walked in, dragging a heavy bag behind him. The small boy looked around the library and easily spotted his housemate. As he walked towards his table, Severus groaned.

"Hi, Severus," the boy spoke sitting next to him. "You don't mind, do you?"

Severus shook his head.

"Are you studying?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders. "Not anymore."

"Oh, good," Jonathan replied, "you can help me then."

"Yes." The other boy drawled.

"Were you here since lunch?"

"Yes," he nodded once again.

"Alone?"

"No."

"Who were you with?"

"Lily," he muttered slowly.

Avery looked at him in confusion. "The Mudblood?"

Severus clenched his jaw once, then twice (lightly), pursing his lips ever so slightly. "Yes," he settled on a simple answer.

"Why? Is she your friend?"

The dark haired boy sighed. Avery was not the type to inquire that much, not usually; and Severus would have preferred him not talking around the Slytherin House that he was friends with Lily. He was not embarrassed; he just figured it would be best for everyone if the amount of times Lily was mentioned, amongst that particular group of boys, would be minimal.

"We know each other," Severus paused, "from back home. We're neighbours."

"Oh," Avery nodded, his mousy hair flopping down on his forehead, "so you have to be her friend."

"Listen," the other boy began, now dangerously irritated, "what do you need help with?"

"Everything?"

"Everything?"

"Everything," Jonathan looked down, slightly embarrassed, and Severus noted how big his ears seemed to be for a boy of such a small build. "I have a horrible attention span. I just…"

"Fine," was Severus' reply, "I will help you, with everything. But in return you are not going to mention Lily to anyone."

"I don't care about your Mudblood friend either way." The boy retorted.

"Good."

"They'll find out eventually," the boy stated, as he pulled out The Standard Book of Spells. "Lucius knows everything. You really shouldn't be friends with Mudbloods, Snape." Avery finished, as if offering advice.

"Doesn't matter." The other boy shrugged, even though, in many ways it did matter. Lily mattered to Severus, but so did making friends, important friends. Especially if said friends were older students from respectable families. He knew that they were that much he remembered from his grandparents. They have had the time to teach him of the wizard families that made good friends, that would lead one to success, and success meant to Severus becoming the opposite of who he was now. He turned his attention back to Avery, who was reading the index of chapters.

"I am having issues with…" the boy flipped through the pages upon finding the chapter he needed. "Aha! The Levitation Charm."

"We've studied that four months ago, Avery."

A tint of pink covered the boy's cheeks. "I know, but dad talked to Professor Flitwick, and he said, considering my difficulties, that I can study at my own pace."

"Oh, Merlin." Severus sighed.

It had turned out that Jonathan Avery had a real issue with learning the proper incantations. Somehow, he had been convinced that it had been  _Wing-R-adium Leviosa_ , and no one else had bothered to correct him. The two boys remained in the library until dinnertime came around. They watched, in between different spells, how the room slowly filled out with students as the afternoon hours progressed. It had started emptying again as 6 o'clock approached and more and more of the students that had been studying left the library, most likely headed towards the Great Hall. The two boys joined the rest of them on their way to dinner after Jonathan had semi-successfully attempted the  _Mending Charm_.

Severus could hear his stomach grumble, as they exited the library, a random book of hexes he picked up burning a hole in his school bag. Lily had not turned up for dinner that day, at least not before 7:22 when he left the Great Hall with Avery and Nott.

 

* * *

 

**[James; Making Friends]**

As per the agreement with a group of most helpful house elves, the cake they had baked had been transferred, most covertly, to the Gryffindor Common Room, alongside a couple of pitchers of various juices that the two boys somehow managed to carry all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower. It had been magic beyond what Sirius and James had expected, one moment they were walking through the hole behind the portrait, carrying the juice; the other the cake had miraculously appeared in the middle of the small table where a couple of students had been studying. This occurrence caused the three Gryffindors at the table to step away from the table and grudgingly depart for what James assumed was the library. The rest of the students occupying the Common Room stared blankly at the large cake; the older ones disregarding it and returning to their conversations while they younger silently contemplated whether they would be allowed to eat it.

From the corner of the room Marlene and Lily, who had both been in deep conversation with Alice and Dorcas, looked on in shock as the two first year boys strutted in carrying huge pitchers up to the table and promptly placing them on the floor. James sported a huge grin on his face, while Sirius looked around nonchalantly, attempting to hide how proud he was of what they had achieved. He elbowed James once and whispered a quick, short sentence.

"What is this?" A tall witch approached the two boys nodding towards the cake. Emmeline Vance was that year's newly named Gryffindor prefect, but was known to be rather relaxed when it came to Common Room shenanigans; so said Sirius, who heard it from Marlene, who was told by Dorcas, who's thrice removed cousin from her mother's side was Emmeline's best friend.

"A cake?" Sirius offered, a grin plastered on his face.

The prefect frowned, "I can tell. Why's it taking up the whole table?"

"I've got this," James started, "because it's a _really_ big cake?"

"Potter, Black," the girl started, hands on her hips. "I am not opposed to the cake. I am not going to say you can't go raid the Kitchens for food. I will just need a solid reason to overlook your excess behaviour from time to time."

From the corner of the room, Dorcas giggled, causing Emmeline to look over her shoulder at the younger girl. "It's Potter's birthday, Em."

"I see," she looked back at James and Sirius, "you forgot plates and cups." With a wave of her wand, she transfigured a pile of parchments into paper plates and cups.

"Thank you," the messy haired boy smiled.

"Happy birthday, Potter. And behave." With that, she turned towards her friend, and rolled her eyes. Emmeline Vance was not a strict person, in fact she had gotten the prefect position based more on her grades and social skills rather than rule following. If anything, she was the first on her year to have found where the Kitchens Entrance was. She understood that growing up in a magical castle had its perks, which had to be taken advantage of, and explored, and entertained, and used – as often as one could use them, of course. Sitting in an armchair next to her friend, she observed the scene around the table where two first years were distributing cake to various students their senior. As much as she enjoyed entertaining the idea of such a scene when one of them would be turning seventeen, she was also glad that that would not be her party to overlook. James Potter and Sirius Black left the air of mischief too thick even for her own liking.

In the opposite corner of the room, in a trio of similar armchairs the four younger Gryffindor girls were still firmly seated. Marlene wanted to get the cake as soon as possible, her friends, however, thought it best to wait out the crowd that had gathered around the cake and, consequently, their two ridiculous friends.

"They will eat all the cake," Marlene cried out, pointing at the dozen of Gryffindors surrounding it.

"Look at the size of it," Dorcas laughed, "we'll have some for after dinner  _and_  breakfast tomorrow."

"You're clearly underestimating the Gryffindor appetite," Alice quipped from her spot sitting on the arm rest of the armchair in which Dorcas presided.

Marlene frowned at her cousin. "You're quite awful, Alice."

"I'm just saying."

"Ah," Lily bolted up, out of her comfy armchair, "come on. Let's go," she pulled Marlene out of her sitting position. "We're going to get some cake."

With an ecstatic clap from Marlene, the two walked over to the now diminishing crowd of students, and Lily pushed forward in between the taller ones successfully reaching the middle. From their position, they could clearly see Sirius butchering each and every piece of cake with an impressively shiny pocketknife while James handed the slices out to people. The two were positively enjoying the attention. Marlene and Lily looked at each other, both suppressing the need to roll their eyes, instead they circled the table, approaching Sirius from the back.

"Boo," Lily whispered causing the boy to ruin the slice of cake he had been cutting even more.

"Evans!" He exclaimed, passing the plate with a pile of cake on it to James. "Look what you made me do."

"It was an improvement, really." Marlene smiled.

"Don't be rude if you want the cake," Sirius pointed the cake-smeared pocketknife at them.

"Put that knife away," the red haired girl pushed his hand to the side, "or at least to good use, and give us four extra-large slices."

"Four?" James joined the conversation, raising an eyebrow at them. "I'm sure you've noticed, but we have a crowd of people here who would also like to eat. We can't give out extra cake to people just because they're our friends." Although the crowd he motioned to consisted for five second years and two third years at that point, with everyone else already eating their share.

The blonde girl sighed. "It's for Dorcas and Alice, you dolt."

"Ah," the birthday boy nodded thoughtfully, "Four large slices then."

"Thank you!"

As soon as James handed them the four plates Lily and Marlene, while balancing the cake, managed to find their way away from the table back to their cozy corner where Dorcas and Alice awaited. The two older girls looked at their friends with smiles on their faces as they approached.

"Cake, cake, cake," Alice chanted as Marlene handed her one of the plates.

"You're welcome," the blonde commented before dropping down into the largest armchair. "Come sit, Lily." She wiggled about making room for her friend. Together they both squeezed in the soft warmth of the armchair.

"You know," Dorcas started, "for a couple of first years, these two are causing quite a spectacle."

Alice nodded, chewing on the last bite of cake she took. "Yes. I am afraid of things to come."

"I mean," her friend shrugged, taking another bit of her own slice of cake, "if they continue bringing in food, I'm good with it."

The four girls laughed, glancing at James and Sirius who were joined by the small boy named Peter. The three of them sat around the table, the crowd around them having dissipated, and simply took small bites of cake while chattering on.

It was a start of a much wilder tradition to follow in the years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hope you've found this enjoyable. Please do review/comment/leave suggestions. Whatever you like :)
> 
> xx
> 
> Maja


	6. Five, aka What We Do In Our Free Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Easter Holidays, and that means springtime shenanigans may commence.

**[March 29 th; 1972]**

On that particular morning, James and Sirius could be found sitting in the middle of the latter’s bed with a variety of Chocolate Frog cards—all of them being doubles—spread out in front of them. Between the two of them, they had nearly a thousand of unique cards.

“Leaving for Easter hols?” Sirius asked, picking up an empty Godric Gryffindor card.

James shrugged, “I suppose, you?”

“I’ll stay,” Sirius chucked the card onto the pile where he tossed the other 22 Gryffindor cards,” parents haven’t been the most pleasant during winter break. They say I’ve brought shame upon the family.”

“What? Oh, no,” James groaned, “we have at least fifty Dumbledores.”

“Just toss them on a pile,” his friend motioned to the Albuses on the floor. “I think it’s ridiculous. The whole disgracing the family bit they have going on,” Sirius explained, “it’s not like I’ve been pronounced an untalented squib.”

“It is dumb,” James agreed. “You’re staying then?”

“Mhm.”

“Good,” he paused, moving to get off the bed, “I’ll let my parents know.”

“What?”

“What _what_?”

“Why should you parents know I’m staying here?” Sirius sat on the edge of the bed, bending down to put on his shoes.

“They need to know I’m not coming home,” James noted, searching through Sirius’ drawer. “Don’t you have a piece of parchment in here?”

“No. Why are you staying?”

“Because you’re staying.”

“Oh,” he handed James a quill and a piece of parchment from his schoolbag, “good.”

James took the parchment and quickly scribbled down a couple of sentences, signing off with a quick _‘James’_ and a doodle of an owl. He folded the paper twice before shoving it into his right pocket.

“I’ve been thinking, Sirius,” the boy started, “we should compile a list of good places to be at Hogwarts.”

The two boys walked out of the dormitory, both of them knowing where they were headed without having to discuss it.

“What do you mean good places?”

“Just,” James shrugged, “good places. Like—”

“Like the Trophy Room, or that weird corridor that’s always drafty?”

“Yes,” they walked across the empty Common Room and outside through the entrance, “but a bit more interesting. Kitchens, for example.”

“That’d be nice, yeah.”

Once James sent his letter from the Owlery the two boys headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. At the entrance, Professor McGonagall had already hung a notice that all students who wish to go home for Easter Holidays should let their House prefect in charge of it know by the end of the day. They walked by it without sparing it a second glance, though, they were staying to explore.

 

* * *

 

 

**[Lily; Family Bonds]**

On Saturday, April Fools, the sun rose golden and bright above the Forbidden Forest, and most of the students woke up at the first break of daylight to pack their trunks. Fewer of them were leaving the school for the Easter holidays, but still a significant amount once they piled out of the castle and headed towards the Hogsmeade station where the now-familiar train awaited.

As soon as her feet hit the solid ground of Platform 9 and ¾ Lily was nervously scanning the surroundings, dragging her rather light trunk behind her. Though lacking in height it was not hard to spot the familiar shade of red hair in the distance. Near the barrier stood her mother, hair dancing in the light wind, and her father accompanied—to Lily’s surprise—by her older sister Petunia. Lily smiled contently and weaved her way towards them through the crowd. She had left her friends somewhere near the train, far behind her; she would perhaps go back to say goodbye later, but if not they would be seeing each other in 10 days anyway.

“Mum, dad,” the girl all but plummeted herself in between the two parents, hugging each with one hand.

“Hello,” her mother smiled. “Glad to see you’ve missed us.”

“I have,” Lily nodded. “Hey, Tuney.”

The older girl looked at the younger with a small frown before her features softened, and she offered a small, careful smile. “Hey, Lily.”

The two girls stood, looking at each other for a second longer before a loud whistle from a train interrupted the scene, and they were free from experiencing what would have been a rather awkward hug. The family walked through the barrier, Lily chattering on about Hogwarts to her mother while Petunia walked in silence next to their father who was dragging Lily’s suitcase behind him.

The busy streets of London proved to be even harder to navigate while attempting to drag a sizeable trunk, and Lily, though she was not in charge of her things any more, could not wait to escape the bustle of the city and arrive to her childhood home. Living in a magical castle had proved to be an adventure in and of itself, but a girl sometimes missed the comfort of her familiar room and the most fantastic soufflé that her mother would make every time she asked for it.

The drive home was long, arduous, and tiring for some (Mr. Evans). For some, namely Petunia and Lily, the drive back home proved to be a chance to be lulled into a light sleep by the continuous motion of the car. In the front passenger seat, their mother was switching the unmarked tapes in search of her favourite Rolling Stones album. She soon gave up, instead flipping through various channels until she settled on the one with the most upbeat music.

Every now and again Lily would jerk awake, her neck stiff from lulling to the side, and watch the scenery as it passed them by, or—more correctly—they passed it by. The trees moved across her field of vision quickly, yet slow enough so that they did not turn into a green blur. She would stare out of the window for a couple of minutes before, lulled by the motion, her head simply fell down as sleep took over once again. The last time she woke up the scenery outside had changed significantly. It was dusk, but dark enough for her to have trouble recognizing the shapes of the places they passed. The trees that she would have previously seen had been replaced by rows of houses, all similar, yet all noticeably different. Upon seeing the familiar yellow corner house Lily realized just how close to home they were; only two more left turns, then a right one, and a final left to park in the driveway and she would be home.

Which is, of course, exactly how it happened. The car turned left as they approached the yellow house, and soon enough her father was steering it into their driveway. It came to a halt rather suddenly, and the quiet washed over the car as the engine turned off. Lily leaned over towards her older sister who was still soundly asleep.

“Tuney,” she shook her shoulder lightly. “Tuney, we’re home.”

The blonde girl let out a few grumpy ‘ _hmphs_ ’ before rubbing her eyes in mild confusion.

“We’re home,” Lily smiled returning to her side of the car and letting herself out, while the other girl yawned.

Evans’ home was medium sized. It did not stand out on their street, save for the lovely Lily bushes at the front of the house. Veronica Evans unlocked the front door and the four of them promptly piled inside, taking off their shoes and leaving their coats on the hanger in the hallway. Lily was the first to walk into the cosy living area where—despite the Evans family leaving to meet Lily at King’s Cross hours ago—everything still smelled of her mum’s infamous apple pie. Lily’s stomach grumbled once quietly, then the second time loudly.

“Oh,” her mother walked into the room, “is someone hungry?”

Lily nodded, heading off towards the kitchen. “For some apple pie? Always.”

Her mother followed suit, chuckling to herself. “I think we’ll have a small family dinner before you dive into the pie,” she stopped when Lily stopped and reached down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. Lily rolled her eyes at her mother’s gentle gesture, smiling softly as the older woman pecked her on the forehead before enveloping her in a tight hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you, gingerbread.”

“Missed you too, mum,” she wrapped her arms around her mother’s torso.

“I’ve made some soufflé,” Veronica whispered, “but I had to hide it otherwise you father would have eaten it all.”

Lily giggled pulling away from the hug, “Good thinking, mum.”

“Thank you,” her mother winked, “now, be a nice girl and go set the table, won’t you?”

“Aye,aye,” and off Lily went, rummaging through the cupboards of the familiar kitchen for her favourite set of plates which, incidentally, were white with red and gold details.

Petunia joined her a moment later, taking the cutlery out of the drawer and carrying it to the dining table while their mother heated up dinner. Ten minutes later the four members of the Evans family were seated around the oval dining table, taking turns in serving themselves with sizeable portions of spaghetti Bolognese, Veronica Evans’ favourite meal, and a recipe she had picked up during her university days while staying in Naples. While Petunia, who always ate so much, yet remained as thin as a rake, piled a copious amount of pasta and sauce on her plate Lily took the time to glance around the warm, familiar room. Once again, she noted, privately to herself, how much she had missed the warmth ad familiarity of her childhood home. Each object had its place, every photograph, every trinket on the shelves; all of them were exactly where Lily knew they would be once she returned.

She smiled politely and thanked Petunia when her sister handed her the ladle, and then proceeded to pile equal amounts of food onto her own plate.

“Lily, dear,” her mother started, in between two bites, “how’s school?”

On Lily’s left, Petunia supressed the urge to scoff, though Lily remained oblivious to that. “It’s okay,” she responded, “the classes have gotten a bit more difficult, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Good,” her father stood up from his spot at the table. “Vera, darling, white or red wine?”

“Red, please,” she smiled, “but very little.”

“Are you still friends with that boy,” Petunia asked.

“What? Oh, Sev.”

Her sister nodded, “Yes, the Snape boy.”

“Well,” Lily started, looking down at her plate, “yes.”

“Hmph.”

“What?”

“He’s awful,” the blonde girl muttered, keeping a polite tone, “that’s all.”

“He’s not, Tuney, you can’t,” Lily looked angrily at her sister. “You don’t even know him!”

At her raised voice, her mother decided to intervene. “Lily!”

“Sorry, mum.”

Petunia smirked, “He broke that branch and it nearly fell on me.”

“He couldn’t control his magic,” the younger sister replied, now entirely neglecting her dinner, “you upset him.”

“You can choose to believe what you want, Lily,” she spat, “but that freak did that on purpose. And you’re as bad as him if you believe him.” She paused, wracking her brain for a most painful insult. “You’re as much of a freak as he is.”

The words stung on both sides. Lily refused to reply, instead focusing her attention to the meal that did not enthuse her as much as it had only minutes ago. Their father walked into the dining area carrying a bottle of fine wine and two tall glasses, a smile on his face. Upon entering the room he sensed the newly tense atmosphere.

“Oh-oh,” the glasses clinked as he set them down on the table, “I sense an argument has happened.”

His wife offered him a half-hearted smile while the girls remained diligent in staring at their plates. “Oh, it was a minor debate.”

“Better resolve it until tomorrow,” Alfred suggested with a smile as he poured his wife and himself wine. “Or we just might have to return all the Easter goodies.”

The two girls smiled, each glancing secretly at the other. A sisterly bond was not broken as easily as one might expect; such a bond took time to deteriorate and snap. Though it inevitably would be severed forever, the process would take time. Later on, while she climbed the stairs to her room—on the right side of the hallway—Lily thought about the day when the branch incident occurred. She remembered her and Severus talking, and the loud crackling that gave Petunia’s hiding spot up.

And Lily remembered, as she reached for the doorknob, how she could control what she did. She remembered showing Severus the same blooming flower trick she had previously shown to Petunia. Severus told her then and there, as the realization dawned upon her for she had not thought of that moment ever since it happened, preferring to ignore what she knew, deep down, was the truth. He told her, she remembered it clearly as she remembered Petunia calling her a freak, that she—Lily—was obviously very gifted. That she paralleled his own gift, which he knew because not many children had the ability to control their magic so precisely at such a young age. It was then that he picked up a fallen tree branch, enthusiasm and pride in his eyes, and made the leaves fall off it all at once. The branch that had been still fresh, and flexible, had turned dry and fragile in a blink of an eye.

She entered her room, taking in the space that had not changed since the last time she was there, save for the curtains on the windows and the duvet on her bed. There, sleeping in the middle of Lily’s neatly made bed was Daisy, her kitten. Daisy, whom she had to bring home for winter holidays and leave her there due to the kitten’s rather mischievous nature. On more than one occasion during the autumn part of school year, Lily could be found walking various corridors in search for the small kitten who somehow, inevitably, turned up close to the Gryffindor Tower after all.

* * *

 

_Lily was on her knees, cheek pressed to the floor, in the middle of the girl’s dormitory. Daisy had gone missing, again. Since the last time though, Lily had resorted to tying a small bell on a ribbon around her neck. A small bell which she could not hear anywhere in the dormitory._

_“No, no, no,” the girl groaned, “not again.”_

_She shuffled on her knees towards the next bed lifting the edge of the duvet to peek under it. There, unfortunately, she found only a pile of dust and Marlene’s Charms textbook. Letting out another sigh Lily crawled over to Mary’s bed under which she found no trace of dust or books, as well as her cat. The girl was well aware that the time to give up was upon her, her kitten was not in the dormitory, and had not managed to sneak into the bathroom. The only other option, the only one left, was the most dreaded one – she had somehow managed to sneak her way out of the dormitory._

_First thing to note was that Lily was not quite afraid for her kitten, Daisy was smart, and eventually would always come back to Gryffindor Tower, if the last six times of her going missing, were anything to go by. However, Lily also loved her problematic kitten dearly and would be very upset if something were to happen to her and she had done nothing to find her and stop whatever terrible thing might or might not happen._

_The door to the dormitory slammed shut, startling Lily and causing her to bump her head against Mary’s bed._

_“Roe,” she breathed upon seeing the other girl._

_“What are you looking for,” Monroe walked over to her bed and dropped her books on the floor._

_“Daisy.”_

_“Again?”_

_Lily sighed, “Again. I mean I know she will turn up eventually, I just… worry.”_

_Her friend nodded sympathetically. “I know. This is why I did not bring any pets this year,” she shrugged out of her robes shifting through the pile of clothes on her bed, “that and my mother thought it’d be best for the owl, Poe, to grow a little and get used to the family.”_

_“That seems reasonable,” the red haired girl stood up, her knees achy and full of dust. There was a hole in her tights. “Oh, no.”_

_“Again?” Monroe chuckled, already familiar with the sight before her. Lily had routinely managed to ruin all of her tights while either playing or looking for Daisy._

_“It’s my last pair.”_

_“I think I have some extra,” Monroe pulled out an old jumper, “I’ll give you a pair. I probably have at least 10 more in my trunk.”_

_The other girl smiled appreciatively, “Thank you.”_

_“No problem. Also, you should really think about leaving your cat at home after Christmas. Maybe once she’s a bit older she won’t go exploring as much.”_

_Lily nodded, considering the proposition, “I guess.” She then grabbed a handful of kitten treats and headed towards the dormitory entrance. “I’m off to find her.”_

_“Good luck,” Monroe waved from her spot on the bed. She had huddled up between various pillows, with a book in her hands and a packet of Cauldron Cakes next to her._

_On her way to find the ever so evasive kitten Lily ran into Frank Longbottom who was helping Remus Lupin catch up with his schoolwork after being sick with the flu. She let out a small cough before speaking._

_“Hey,” the two boys halted what they were doing and looked at her, “have you maybe seen Daisy, my kitten? She’s about this big, white with gray spots, really cute.”_

_“Again?” Frank Longbottom asked._

_Lily groaned, “Yes, again.”_

* * *

 

The girl lied down on her bed, pulling the kitten on top of her stomach. Daisy’s purring was the last sensation she felt before giving into sleep. The clock was showing two in the morning when she woke up again, her feet freezing and her neck stiff.

* * *

 

 

**[Sirius; Home Away From]**

The first year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory was, simply put, a mess. If one were to step inside on that particular late morning, they would have more than likely been aghast at the sight before them. The four-poster beds that so symmetrically lined the wall of the tower belonged to the young boys who usually occupied the space; however only two remained during that week, the rest had gone off to visit their families. Just to the right of the entrance door was James’ bed.

The state of one’s personal space says more than could be expected about their personality. More often than not, the personal space referred to their room inside the childhood home they grew up in. On the other hand, for Hogwarts students, the personal space amounted to the undefined area surrounding their bed in their dormitories. It was up to a particular student to take up as much or as little space as he or she dared (or was, in some cases, allowed by their housemates). James took up the whole dormitory, or he would have had there not been four more boys that needed to live and breathe inside it. Oddly enough, his bed had always been made from the first day he stepped into the round dormitory. It was a habit his mother managed to instil in him through hard, persistent work and quite a lot of bribery. Nevertheless, the habit stuck and James’ bed was always neatly made up before he left the dormitory, even if he were to be late. Yet, as if to balance out his cleanliness, James’ belongings were always, without an exception, strewn all across the dormitory – be it floor, bathroom, or other people’s beds. His school bag was routinely dropped off wherever he pleased, his books were evidently left wherever he had last held them in his hands, and his clothes somehow found their way onto other people’s beds, chairs, and—on very rare occasions—their wardrobe as well.

James Potter was not a messy person, per se, as anyone who saw his very rare (and very neat) class notes could attest. James Potter, however, had no recollection of the meaning of personal space, and promptly—without a clue—invaded others’ so efficiently. This, of course, meant that he would never mind if someone else were to invade his own personal space.

As a complete polar opposite, right next to James’, stood Sirius’ bed. The unmade bed, the zone of chaos, the creative mess – it had been called various names in the short time period that the five boys spent living together. Sirius enjoyed it. The bed would be made later, the house elves were always hard at work, and at least he tried to keep his belongings inside the designated perimeter around the bed, unlike some other people. Where James was organized, Sirius was—as he liked to put it—free, and where Sirius was—as he, again, liked to call it—organized, James was invasive. With the two of them living inside the same dormitory, the rest of the boys had very little space to themselves, and were exposed to effects similar to a small hurricane entering the room from time to time.

Yet, if one was to walk inside the first year Gryffindor dormitory during the Easter holidays a much different scene would greet them. The first bed to the right, James’, was quite naturally all made, and so was Sirius’, a fact that would come as a surprise if the person, for a split second, forgot about the house elves. Next to Sirius slept Peter, or would sleep once he returned from the holidays. However, due to his long absence Sirius had turned his bed into a jumping station, piled with as many comforters, duvets and pillows as he could find in the dormitory. The boy had considered wandering off to the girls’ side and raiding their sleep supplies, but James talked him out of it. Once Peter’s bed had been turned into a trampoline supplement, the rest followed.

Remus and Frank’s beds were not meant for jumping though, they were meant for chaos, quite literally. Upon Remus’ bed, a warm duvet was placed, and on the duvet there were dozens of various books that James and Sirius had taken out of library during the past few months, accompanied by scrolls of parchments varying in size and usability. In the centre of the bed, there was a small pile of sweets wrappers, and in the middle of his once crisp white pillowcase stood a faded ink stain, which both James and Sirius had attempted to first wash in the sink, then simply vanish. Needless to say, each attempt at saving the pillow and pillowcase seemed to have been futile. Finally, Frank’s bed took on the role of an open space wardrobe, with piles of clothes layered atop it.

On the floor, at various times of day, there could be found crumpled parchment scrolls, as well as a few sweets wrappers, a stray sock, and—at one point—ten broken quills. In the middle of the room stood a messy haired boy, holding in his hands a scroll of parchment that the barred owl had brought. Arthur, the owl, was at the moment sitting on the ledge of the open window closest to James’ bed. He had given Arthur a fistful of owl treats that the bird was now contently picking at while the boy scanned the paper, taking in the light curves of his mother’s handwriting.

_Dear James,_

_How DARE you just change your mind like that about coming home for Easter? Did you know that we had already arranged a family and friends lunch? I specifically told Maureen that she could bring Paul because you would be there so he would not be the only child. It is not a big issue, of course, you are allowed to make your own decisions and, if you wish to spend the holidays with Sirius, your father and I understand. We would just like to be notified a bit sooner the next time such a thing occurs._

_I hope that you are doing well. We have not received a letter from school for over a month. I assume it is because you have calmed down a little once the novelty of the castle had worn off, but your father is chuckling maniacally and saying you probably got much better at avoiding being caught. Though it worries me to say I would sooner agree with his assumption, I do hope you are being careful and are not getting that poor friend of yours into the same trouble._

_Write back soon, we love you_

_Mum and Dad_

“Well,” James started looking across the empty dormitory at Sirius, who was jumping on Peter Pettigrew’s bed, “I’m not in trouble.”

“That’s,” jump, “fan-,” jump, “-tas-,” jump, “-tic.” Sirius tumbled off the bed with a resounding crash, followed by James’ roaring laughter.

“You okay?”

Dusting off his robes and jumper Sirius gave James thumbs up. “Nothing’s broken, I think.”

“Except for Pettigrew’s bed.”

“Pete won’t mind,” the smaller boy grinned, “he’s so tiny he takes up only a third of it anyway.”

“As if you’re much taller,” James quipped.

“Noticeably so,” his friend replied, standing up on his tiptoes. “There.”

Without sparing him a second glance James turned around and headed towards his bed. He folded the letter from his mother neatly, and placed in the top drawer. “We should write down that passageway we found yesterday.” The second drawer squeaked ever so lightly as James opened it in search of a quill and some ink. To his disappointment, the drawer was empty save for a few hidden Chocolate Frogs. “Where are our quills?”

Sirius shrugged, simultaneously pointing to the batch of broken quills on the floor. “I’m pretty sure we walked all over them.”

“Hmm,” James was approached the pile, “I wonder…” The boy pulled out his wand, pointing it towards the pile of quill pieces.

“I don’t think that will work, James,” his friend commented, “there are at least 10 quills in that pile and Flitwick said the spell required precision.”

“I thought he meant precision as in wand movement?” James lowered his wand.

“I feel like he must have mentioned something about different objects causing the spell efficiency to decrease.”

“Hm,” James raised his wand again, “I don’t think I wrote that one down. Either way, it’s worth a shot.” And with a quick, precise flourish of the wand he spoke the incantation. “ _Reparo_.”

A couple of quill pieces twitched, as if trying their best to find their other half and stick together once again. Nothing happened after that and Sirius smirked smugly. “Told you.”

James, though, was not giving up. It would have been easier to go to the Common Room and borrow a quill. It would have even simpler to dig through other boys’ belongings in search of a quill; however, James Potter enjoyed a challenge and was, more often than not, quite stubborn once he was told that he would not—or could not—be able to do something. The boy liked a challenge.

In half a second, he had crossed the room, focused on Remus’ bed. It took him a few missed shots to find the book he set his mind to, but once he had it in his hand, a content smile spread on his face. “Can’t do it, psh” he muttered returning to the pile of broken quills and a baffled Sirius.

“I don’t think a modifier will help us here,” Sirius sang in an all-knowing tone.

“What do you suggest?” James asked, not giving up on his idea.

“I suggest,” the boy sighed, “we do it manually.”

“Manually?”

“It’s the only way.”

The dark haired boy thought on it no longer than 3 seconds, “No, there has to be a better way,” he pushed his glasses a bit higher up his nose, “for example, my way.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’ll bet you 10 Galleons it does not work.”

“Oh, really?”

“I’m slightly better at Charms than you are,” the teasing tone of voice only served to increase James’ resolve, and Sirius knew it very well.

“We can’t all memorize the whole book, Black.”

“Last name basis, eh? … Potter?”

“Shush,” James grinned, “and watch the Charms master at work.” He pointed the tip of his wand at the pile in between them, flicking his wand precisely and speaking the incantation ( _“Plectrum Reparo.”_ ) he watched as some of the pieces twitched and moved, slowly but surely forming a whole writing quill once again. Looking up he met Sirius’ gaze with a victorious smile. “I’ll be taking those 10 Galleons now.”

The boy standing in front of him frowned, and then smirked ever so lightly. “Sure.” Sirius walked over to his bed, and gathered ten Galleons from the top drawer in the cabinet next to it, which he soon after handed to James dropping them one by one into the open palm of his hand.

“Thank you,” the other boy smiled.

“Before we conclude this, though,” Sirius started, his lips pursed, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he were deep in thought, “pick up the quill and write something with it.”

James pocketed the Galleons. “What?”

“Just do it.”

“I will,” the boy bent down grabbing the mended quill from the top of the pile. “There, look at it, it’s per—” he had just enough stand back up and hold the quill in an outstretched palm of his hand before it fell back apart, “—fect.”

This time it was Sirus’ laughter that filled the dormitory. “I knew it!”

“How?!”

“I just did,” he grinned at his friend, “now, I think I will be taking those Galleons back.”

Begrudgingly, James returned his winnings to Sirius, and accompanied them with additional 10 Galleons out of his own wallet. “Can’t believe this.”

“Better do.”

“What now?”

“We could go to ask someone to borrow us a quill,” Sirius suggested, nodding towards the door.

“That’s not fun,” the other boy replied, lowering himself to sit down on the floor. “I say, we do it manually.”

“Not like we have anything better to do,” his friend shrugged, joining him on the floor.

 

**[Lily; Expectations]**

Lily had spent a total of one afternoon with Severus during the holidays and she could sense that he resented her for it. It had not been her fault, not entirely at least. For Easter they—the Evanses—drove to the paternal grandparents for lunch. Mr. Evans’ mother and father lived an hour’s ride from Cokeworth, and the family had departed from their own home early on in the day. The following day, Easter Monday, they had invited both sides of grandparents over for lunch. There was no time to meet up with Severus then either, which she had explained to him via a telephone call. Lily had, in her defence, invited the boy to call in later during the evening but he refused. She did not expect him to accept the offer, but had tried to appease him nonetheless.

On Tuesday, Lily worked on her Hogwarts homework the entire day. Once again, she had invited Severus over to her house in hopes that they could do the homework together. After many complaints, the boy refused, claiming that all they had ever done was spend time while doing homework. This claim, on its own, was not untrue. Lily though, thought he was being awfully unfair since Severus was usually the reason why they would not—or could not—hang out at other times. She told him so right before hanging up the phone.

Wednesday came and passed in a blur, and on Thursday her father took them all to the zoo, claiming it was a family day. They came home late in the afternoon and were greeted by a large, old owl waiting patiently at the driveway. Tied to its leg was a small scroll of parchment, which Lily hastily untied and read.

_Lily,_

_It’s Marlene. Dorcas, Alice and I were spending time at Drocas’ yesterday and wanted to play Quidditch when we realized we really needed more than 3 people to play. We need at least 6 people, if we’re being honest, which is why we (well, I) cordially invited you to come over tomorrow (Friday) morning and stay until Saturday just before lunch. I know your parents must want to spend time with you, but you’d be there for Saturday lunch AND supper, really, and they’d see you before we left for Hogwarts. If you want to come, and your parents agree to this fantastic idea send Gregory (the old hoot) with an affirmation (or rejection, but I’m hoping it does not come to that)._

_Sincerely (this is such a weird signature, but mum always insisted we sign off like that),_

_Marlene_

_P.S. If you’re wondering about the other two players I’ve invited Mary and Roe._

That very scroll of parchment was how Lily found herself getting up suspiciously—she liked to lounge in her bed and read when she had the time—early on the following Friday morning and filling her father’s old camping rucksack with the things she thought would be necessary. Among the chosen contents were a pair of pyjamas, a sporty outfit, her toothbrush, three pairs of socks, playing cards, chocolates her mum insisted she give to Mrs. McKinnon, and her wand. She had planned on taking her wand someplace more reachable but her chosen outfit did not allow for it.

At 9:30 precisely, there was a knock at the door. Petunia, who had been helping their mother make breakfast rushed off to answer the door. Lily was still upstairs, behind the closed door of her room, which is why she did not hear her sister greet the unfamiliar man at the door.

“Good morning,” the blonde girl extended her thin arm towards the rather normal looking gentleman. “Petunia Evans,” she smiled politely, “please, come inside.”

The girl took the man’s—Terrance McKinnon, he introduced himself—coat and hung it up, instructing him to follow her as she walked towards the living area which, when they had guests over, served as a lounge room as well. Petunia informed her mother of the guest’s arrival and climbed the staircase to let Lily know that her friend’s father had arrived to pick her up.

At 10:10 that morning, Lily found herself stepping into a most peculiar place, only a fifteen-minute walk away from her home. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned, ruined post office. Once Mr. McKinnon and Lily stepped inside, though, she noted realized it must have been a spell similar to the one mentioned in _Hogwarts: A History_ , a muggle repelling spell. The insides of the fake post office were not much bigger than what Lily could have assumed while looking at the building from the outside. They were, however, much nicer. Instead of plain white paint, the walls were covered in an intricate looking white and gold wallpaper in the style of art deco, as Lily would learn much later. The longest wall of the room, the one opposite the entrance door, was lined with various looking fireplaces each of them having a unique look. To the right of the entrance a couple of old yet comfortable looking sofas stood in a disarray somewhat akin to a dismantled waiting room, and to the left a small woman sat behind a large mahogany desk.

“Hello, Harriet,” Mr. McKinnon greeted the woman warmly. “Back to McKinnon residence.”

The woman nodded, writing down something on a small card before placing it in a curious looking machine. The card vanished from the slot and the woman placed a small cup at the other side of the contrite intricate contraption, before spinning the handle that conjured up in Lily’s mind the memory of her mother grinding the expensive Brazilian coffee she had once received as a gift.

“Floo Powder for two,” the woman spoke handing Mr. McKinnon the cup. “Fireplace number five.”

“Very well,” Lily followed the wizard until he stopped before the said fireplace. “I assume you’ve never travelled via Floo Powder.”

He had worded it as a question, though it seemed more like a statement. Lily shook her head, “No.”

“It’s no big deal, trust me. This,” he lowered the small cup showing her the odd green powder in it, “is Floo Powder. Go ahead, you can touch it.”

Lily poked the substance lightly, “It’s so…”

“Strange, I know,” Mr. McKinnon chuckled. “Now, what you have to do is grab a fistful of it, step into the fireplace—don’t worry it won’t burn you—” he added after seeing Lily’s shocked expression. “And just say, very clearly, McKinnon Residence.”

“McKinnon Residence.”

“Yes, we’re the only McKinnon residence attached to the Floo Network,” he started explaining, “oh, bur Marley can explain the details to you.”

Ever the brave Gryffindor, Lily grabbed a fistful of the green powder and stepped into the fireplace.

 

* * *

 

 

**[Marlene; Snitch]**

Motivated by her friends’ upcoming arrival, and her mother’s constant nagging—more so latter than the former—Marlene found herself cleaning her room. She had not realized how dusty the floor was until she had tried setting up the beds for Mary and Lily; Dorcas had suggested that Monroe sleep over at her place because Marlene’s room could easily fit two additional beds—or rather, matrasses on the floor—while fitting in the third one would have proven to be a difficulty. Meadowes’ house was, to add to it, much bigger than the McKinnons’. In fact, Dorcas liked to think it was laughably large seeing as only her parents and herself lived there. Their home resembled a small mansion rather than a large house and, unlike Dorcas, Marlene thought it looked fantastic. The grand building stood atop a small hill, only a fifteen minute walk from Marlene's home (ten, if you walked fast enough and knew the shortcuts), and had a wonderful view of their side of town. The front driveway could fit up to three cars, not that Dorcas' family used the muggle contraptions, whilst the backyard was large enough to fit a pool disguised as a pond and a small, makeshift, Quidditch field. McKinnon’s house, on the other hand, though equipped with a sizable backyard and a total of five bedrooms seemed rather small in comparison.

When Lily arrived that morning, stumbling out of the family room fireplace, closely followed by Mr. McKinnon Marlene was there to greet her, a wide grin on her round face highlighting the dimples that decorated her cheeks.  

“Lily,” she exclaimed before wrapping her arms around the other girl. The sudden hug caused the ashes to fly up from the redhead’s clothes. Mr. McKinnon waved his wand swiftly, vanishing the leftover ashes from the Floo Network.

“Hi, Mar,” he spoke up.

The blonde let go of her friend. “Hullo, dad,” Marlene nodded at the wizard behind Lily, “off to work now?”

Terrance smiled, “I’m afraid so.” He gazed through the large window overlooking the backyard garden, which his wife so lovingly tended to every morning. “It’s a wonderful day, best enjoy it.”

His daughter rolled her eyes, “Yes, dad. Bye, dad.”

Mr. McKinnon stepped back towards the fireplace and disappeared into the green flames. Lily could not help but look at the fire in mild shock once again.

“You’ll get used to it,” Marlene said tugging at her arm. “Come on, mum left some breakfast for us before leaving.”

Marlene held on to Lily’s wrist as she led her through the large door that led into the most formal dining area setting Lily had ever been in. Adjacent to it, and accessible through an archway, was an impressive kitchen. On the small table in the right corner stood plates and bowls, two of each. In the bowls, Lynda McKinnon had prepared freshly chopped fruits from her very own garden – wild strawberries, blueberries, pomegranate, dried fig and some almonds. There was French and regular toast on the plates, and a sweet cream cheese spread in a small jar, accompanied with two hard-boiled eggs and a double serving of smoked salmon.

“You don’t have to eat all of that,” Marlene said as they both took a seat at the table. “Or anything you don’t like. We have some leftover pancakes in the fridge, if you’d prefer that.”

“Oh, no,” the other girl replied reaching for a fruit bowl. “It all looks delicious. I haven’t had time to eat properly this morning, was packing,” she motioned to the old rucksack on the floor next to the table.

“Good!” Marlene smiled. “I suggest you try the cream spread and some salmon, it’s my favourite.”

“I don’t think I’ve had salmon before.”

“You’ll love it, I promise.”

In the end when the two girls ate all that Mrs. McKinnon had carefully served on the small table, starting with fruit and moving onto the salmon, Lily decided that she did love it. The breakfast had been delicious, and far more interesting than the one she would have eaten at home. Marlene placed the dishes into the sink before heading for some other part of the house with Lily following right behind, carrying her rucksack all the way to Marlene’s room. The room was nearly twice the size of Lily’s, but made up for it with the sheer amount of furniture inside it. The floor was barely visible, though, due to the two additional sleeping set-ups for Lily and Mary. Still, Lily could not help but take in the space in awe whilst Marlene rummaged through the trunk she had pulled out from underneath her bed. An ecstatic exclamation broke Lily out of her daze; her friend had finally located, and taken out, a pair of older flying broomsticks. She gave Lily the newer model, keeping the worse looking broom to herself, and then they were on their way descending the staircase back to the ground floor and exiting the house. As they walked outside, the entrance door shut behind them, the locks clicking. Then, they were on their way to Meadows’ residency.

The town in which they lived was smaller than Lily’s. She could tell by the size of the roads, and the amount of houses they have passed. The houses, though, were bigger than the ones she was familiar with, the smallest of them still surpassing her own home by at least third of its size. Nearly every house the two girls passed by had a neatly decorated garden in the front yard, almost as if the owners had been competing with one another. Marlene explained to Lily, as they turned right into a narrow and steep passage, that the town had mixed residents—both muggles and wizards alike lived in it—but this particular neighbourhood was dominantly a wizarding one. The muggle families that lived there mostly lived right next to other, more muggle neighbourhoods, though Marlene’s parents would often recount their run ins with member of the families who always seemed thoroughly convinced that there was something curiously odd with their neighbourhood.

They turned left, somewhere in the middle of the steep passage and, to Lily’s chagrin, started climbing a seemingly never-ending set of stone stairs. The stairs were a shortcut, Marlene told her, as Lily whined and attempted counting them. The shortcut passed between various houses, coming out onto an unfamiliar street and continuing on the other side of it. Finally, after they had come to a third street-stairs intersection, Marlene turned left instead of crossing the road to the continuation of the stairs, Thus, they walked towards the end of the street, where—Lily could see it even from afar—a large house caught her eye. The building was the Meadowes’ home, though at the moment, Lily was not aware of the fact. Instead, she kept asking Marlene if they were near, and the girl kept replying—with a mischievous sound in her voice—that they would be arriving very soon. 

“There,” Marlene stopped in front of that last, mansion like residence.

“What?”

“We have arrived,” the girl grinned staring at her friend’s face as it went from utter confusion to shocked realization.

“ _That’s,_ ” Lily pointed her finger at the building in front of them, “Dorcas’ house?”

Marlene nodded, walking through the front yard and towards the large main entrance. “Dorcas’ family is well off.”

“Well off?” Lily repeated in disbelief. “My _whole house_ could fit into her front yard!”

The door swung open, “We’d rather not have it, though,” Dorcas grinned. “We prefer flowers in our garden.”

“Hullo,” Marlene waved. “We come prepared,” she motioned towards the two brooms.

“Fantastic,” the girl in front of them opened the door wider. “Come inside.” She grabbed both broomsticks off them and placed them in the corner of the hallway. “The girls are all in the sun room, Mar, I’ll go get us some more juice.”

“Peach, please,” Marlene yelled after Dorcas as the other girl disappeared behind another wide door. She and Lily walked over, across the grand entrance, towards the sunroom where the rest of the girls lounged about, Alice and Monroe deep in conversation, while Mary flipped through the pages of a large navy blue book.

Prior to eating lunch the girls played Quidditch, as was the plan all along, in Dorcas’ back yard, but only after Monroe stopped expressing her awe at the makeshift Quidditch pitch that Meadowes’ had created there. The teams were formed, Marlene’s, Mary and Alice, and Dorcas’, Lily and Monroe. Once each of them had their broom and had had the chance to hold a Quaffle once—Lily claimed her hands were too small to hold a ball of that size—they flipped a coin to decide who would have the priority in either choose the side of the pitch or getting the Quaffle first. The decision was made as the large gold coin landed into the grass, face up, and Marlene grinned claiming the side of the pitch that had the Keeper facing away from the sun.

Then the game began, with Lily, Dorcas, Mary and Alice playing Chasers while Marlene and Monroe guarded the respective goal post. The Meadowes’ Quidditch pitch only had but one large goal post in lieu of the three that a standard pitch would have due to expected decrease in team size and the inability to successfully protect all three posts when one was not allowed to fly higher than six feet off the ground.

The first goal ended up in Marlene’s goal post as Lily managed, despite her continuous protests that her hands were too small to hold a Quaffle properly, pass the large ball to Dorcas on the other side of the pitch, allowing her teammate to throw it through the hoop easily. Marlene grumbled, promising revenge on both of them, which— as she later claimed— was simply her premonition of her team actually winning. Somewhere between the first goal being scored and Marlene’s ridiculous victory dance when her team was pronounced victorious, a change of game dynamic happened once Mary figured out how to hold the Quaffle without dropping it. Following that sudden realization, Alice scored goal after goal with the help of Mary’s carefully timed assists, as Monroe apologized profusely to Dorcas and Lily, attempting to shield her face from the sunrays that incapacitated her as a Keeper.

The game ended when, upon trying to stop another Quaffle from entering the unguarded goal, Monroe slipped off the broom and landed in the soft grass beneath it with a gentle thud. She was fine, but her inability to sit on a broom for that day marked the end of their games.

Later, they pretended to have a picnic. The six of them placed a couple of large blankets on the patch of grass in Drocas’ backyard from which they had the most wonderful view of the town below. The food had been delicious and the sunshine was warm on their skin, but not harsh enough to burn.

“You fly really well,” Monroe said to Marlene.

“Thank you,” the other replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Puh-lease, I’m terrible.”

“Average,” Alice quipped. “You’ve got potential.”

“I still think the Quaffle is too big,” Lily added to the conversation.

“I second that,” Mary piped in. “It took some time for me to be able to catch it with just one hand.”

“We need more players,” Dorcas commented. “At least one more on each team. Then it would be fun.”

“We could invite Potter,” Marlene was quick to respond. “And I guess Black would be an okay choice as well.”

“James is really good,” the red haired girl mused.

“Oh, please,” the blonde girl chuckled quitely. “You’d think he was good at anything.”

“What? No, I wouldn’t.”

“Uh, yes you would,” Marlene ruffled Lily’s hair a bit. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What makes you say that?” Lily fixed her hair, staring at her friend incredulously.

Marlene took a slice of apple pie and ate it before shrugging her shoulders in response.

“Marlene!”

“What,” she smirked, leaning closer to Lily and whispering, “you fancy him.”

If it were possible Lily’s cheeks would have turned the same deep shade of red to match her hair. “No, I don’t,” she whispered back. The two girls had lost the attention of the rest of the girl who were listening closely to Dorcas as she explained the various neighbourhoods that could be seen from their spot in the backyard.

“You sure?”

“Maybe.”

“Thought so.”

“I don’t fancy him,” Lily whispered, “I just think he is, sometimes, nice and funny.”

“Okay,” Marlene smiled, her dimples showing, as she reached for another slice of pie.

 

* * *

 

 

 **[Sirius; Myrtle?]**  

“What about Myrtle?” Sirius asked, inspecting a Bertie Bott’s Bean before eating it and grimacing.

James looked up from the piece of parchment on which he was writing and raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“Should we add her to our list?”

“Hm.”

Sirius ate another bean, “Yuck.” He reached for a slice of lemon tart, compliments of the Hogwarts Kitchens. “I mean, she’s interesting.”

“She’s a bit mental,” James smirked. “But yes, we should add her to the list. Well, not her, but the bathroom.”

“Agreed.”

“Myrtle comes with the bathroom, though.”

“What an amazing bonus surprise.”

* * *

 

_They had been at it for a couple of days, getting started right after Easter had passed. James’ cloak had been a lot of help in avoiding detention as they dallied around the castle in search of adventure and mystery. Their findings were sparse; the two had discovered three secret passages that worked as shortcuts between distant corridors and floors, such as the one they had passed through just the day before, which connected the third floor with the seventh floor coming out right near the Divination Tower. However, to their disappointment the passageway seemed to work only in one direction._

_The only significant find was Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, on the first floor. This they happened to hop upon led by sheer luck. The two of them had decided to hop down to the Kitchens the day after Easter, to gather some of the Easter treats before they disappeared. Having filled Peter’s school bag, which he unwittingly left behind at Hogwarts, with some lemon and blueberry tarts, alongside a few appetizers, as many muffins as they could grab, and a batch of leftover fudge. They were about to turn right towards the Library on the first floor where, incidentally, another passageway was located that let them out only a couple minutes away from the Gryffindor Tower. Sirius, the boy not carrying Peter’s heavy bag, suggested they take another route in hopes of discovering something slightly more exciting than a random passage connecting two floors._

_To Sirius’ utter joy the nearby corridor had been flooded when they stepped inside, and the caretaker, Mr. Filch, had put up a messily scribbled sign Wet floor, out of order with an arrow pointing at a girl’s lavatory door. Their feet splashed through the water, and James could feel his socks getting wetter inside his shoes, a feeling no one ever appreciated. Sirius could not be bargained with; he wanted a discovery, an adventure, something to show to Remus and Pettigrew once they came back from the holidays. Thus, the two boys stepped inside the lavatory._

_The two of them stood, utterly unimpressed, in the middle of the spacious room. For a second they were surrounded by silence, which was interrupted only by faint sounds of water droplets. James was about to turn and head towards the door, happy to be on his way to the dormitories where he would change out of his now completely soaked socks, when a loud wailing sound rang through the bathroom. The messy haired boy spun on his heel, nearly falling, and met his best friend’s gaze with a look of shock and disguised terror._

_“What in the—” Sirius started, observing as the shocked look on James’ face disappeared, the boy’s eyes focused on something behind Sirius. He turned his head back, looking towards the stalls, where a pale, transparent ghost of a girl stood. She floated about four feet above the water level and was crying in a most annoying way. “Uh…”_

_“Uhm,” James motioned for him to speak._

_“I don’t know.” Sirius mouthed._

_“Uh,” the water filled James’ shoes as he stepped forward, “hello?”_

_At the sound of his voice, the ghost looked up, letting out a frantic shriek before hastily flying towards them. “And who might you be?” She sniffed._

_“Uh-I, I am,” he stuttered, “I—James.”_

_“Hello, James,” she sniffled once more before glancing at Sirius, “and your friend?”_

_Sirius lifted his arm in a half-hearted way, “Sirius.”_

_“Sorry,” the other boy started carefully, having never experienced a crying girl, let alone a crying ghost, “but why are you crying?”_

_Myrtle looked at him, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. James regretted his question. Sirius, in that moment, regretted having ever suggested they step foot into the lavatory._

_“If you must know,” the ghost sniffled, her voice reaching a higher pitch, “I had just remembered how I died.”_

_“Oh,” James nodded, unsure of what to say._

_“Oh,” Myrtle mocked, floating away from him. “Oh!” She let out a high-pitched cry, before flying up into the air and, wailing all along, flowing into a bathroom stall. The loud splash was followed by the sounds of her crying carrying through the pipes._

_Sirius turned on his heel, headed straight for the door with James following right behind._

_“Mate,” Sirius whispered as soon as they were a corridor away._

_“She’s a bit mental,” James whispered back, hoping their voices did not carry through the empty hallway as well as Myrtle’s crying carried through the pipes._

* * *

 

James dipped his quill into the inkbottle and scribbled down a neat Myrtle’s Bathroom – First Floor. He rolled up the scroll of parchment and placed it back into the third drawer of his nightstand. From the floor next to Sirius’ bed, he picked up a thin book titled _Practical Jinxes for Fools,_ a light-reading material the two had picked up over two weeks ago with every intention of exploring the possibilities that the book offered.

“Is it time for practice,” Sirius asked with a grin.

James smirked, flipping through the pages until he found the desired jinx. “Perhaps.”

Before Sirius knew what hit him he felt a warm sensation travelling all over his scalp. “What colour is my hair?”

“Radish.”

“What? Did you make it pink,” he reached up to touch his hair, “I swear, James, we talked about the no-go colours.”

“It’s red,” the other boy replied, “a nice shade.”

Sirius walked over to the bathroom. “Hm,” he muttered to himself before returning to the dormitory. “So, you like this red?”

James nodded.

“So,” Sirius narrowed his eyes at the boy sitting in the middle of his bed, “you like _Evans’_ hair?”

“No,” James frowned, “her hair is less… bright?”

“Her hair is the same.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Not.”

“You like her hair,” the currently red haired boy smirked.

“Lies.”

“You like Evans,” he poked James’ arm.

“No, I don’t,” James rolled his eyes. “Her hair isn’t even that pretty.”

“But it is pretty?”

“I didn’t—you,” the dark haired boy stood up, pointing the tip of his wand at his friend. “ _Colovaria Capillo Hyacinth_.”

Sirius felt the warm sensation all over again. “What did you do?”

James chuckled.

“James!?”

“You know,” the culprit started, “violet is such a good colour on you.”

The next moment James’ hair turned bright green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
> I'm a bit late with this chapter but it is a bit longer compared to the previous ones. Please review if you like (or if you have some constructive criticism and such). 
> 
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, it's at least enjoyable? (this starts out a bit darker, I guess, than I had intended it to; just wanted to attempt setting up some motives and acquaintanceships)


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